Forbidden Temptation
by jesscoco
Summary: Fred dies in The Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione turns to George at the loss of the person she loved most in the world. Years later, Hermione has a son. George has no idea.
1. Chapter 1

"George." A breathy moan escaped Hermione's lips as the red headed Weasley twin found himself rocking his hips into hers, filling her up each time without any sort of remorse. It was a blissful feeling. The boy buried his face into the crook of his neck to keep himself from crying out, the smell of her strawberry shampoo seeming to send him even closer to the edge. That didn't stop Hermione's own moans from passing her lips, though, as she hit her high. George had to slip his hand over her mouth carefully, whispering that the twins were asleep down the hall.

She still moaned against the skin of his hand, and the feeling of her walls clenching around the lower parts of George's anatomy had the boy grunting quietly, his hips picking up the pace until he spilled his seed into her. Hermione moaned at the feeling.

Carefully, the Weasley placed a gentle kiss to the girl's lips and sat up to yank on his clothes. It was always the same routine – and there was no hiding Hermione's disappointment as he slipped his boxers up onto his hips. This had been going on ever since Fred's death – they'd both lost someone irreplaceable. George a twin and Hermione a boyfriend. This was their way of coping, even three years later. She carefully stood up from the bed in George's guest bedroom, a bed she shouldn't have been filling at that moment, and with a wave of her wand she was fully clothed. "Thank you," The red head glanced back at her, trying to hide every emotion from his face. It was what he always did. Instead of replying, he gave a curt nod and left the room. Hermione sighed. Katie wouldn't be pleased that he had come home so late again – even if he'd been home all the while. With a single flick of her wand hand and the crushing feeling of apparition, Hermione was home in the flat that she shared with Dean Thomas – her boyfriend.

"Have you been at the shop all night?" George glanced up at his fiancée with a raise of his eyebrows. It was a bit weird, to him at least, that they weren't married – they had two beautiful children together and lived in the same flat. They had for nearly two years. Living in the flat above the shop had just been to hard – it was a horrible reminder that Fred would never come back in sporting purple hair again. Honestly, purple was that man's color.

"Yes." He glanced over at Katie, watching as she swept her light brown hair out of her face. She wasn't pleased.

"You're working yourself to the bone, George Weasley. Allison and Rebecca miss you." The twins, oh lord, the twins. He hadn't seen them since this morning – and he missed their pudgy faces. However, it was late, and they were fast asleep.

"I know. I'm sorry, love. It's just been hectic lately." He kissed her cheek as he stood to his feet, towering nearly a whole foot above the girl, and pushed his chair in while slipping his plate into the sink. Let me tell you, Katie Bell was no Molly Weasley. She wasn't exactly handy in the kitchen, but she did well enough. When she cooked it was edible.

"Come home early tomorrow." George glanced over at her, his eyebrows raising ever so slightly. If he did that, he was agreeing not to see Hermione. He'd seen Hermione nearly every day for the past two months without hitch. Maybe that's why Katie was so bitter lately – George barely touched her. He swept up the girl into his arms, pulling her closer to him.

"I make no promises." With that, he swept his fiancée up into a heated kiss and pushed her towards their bedroom, throwing a silencing spell towards the door as he did so.

"Dinner's ready." Hermione swiftly set the baked ziti onto her dining room table, looking rather smug about the whole thing. When someone tells you that Hermione Granger is good at absolutely everything, well, they're not lying. Her cooking skills rivaled those of Molly Weasley's – though she wasn't quite there yet. Within a few years, she was sure she'd be right there with her. The thought made her stomach churn. Would anyone actually want her around if they figured out what she and George were doing? It was very unlikely, which was unfortunate seeing as Dean would kick her out so fast her head would spin.

"Smells lovely, babe." Hermione's eyebrows rose ever so slightly at the name 'babe'. It wasn't something she was particularly fond of, then again, Dean had several annoying quirks about him that Hermione found herself picking out daily. Not that she'd ever throw them into his face – honestly, the woman was cheating on her boyfriend of a year with her dead boyfriend's twin brother. She wasn't exactly citizen of the year.

"I'm sure it tastes just as good." Her voice was tired, obviously warn out, as she often was. She'd been tired since May 2nd, 1998. It was currently January of 2001. Obviously, things hadn't been going so well. She was working for the minister of magic, having taken up Umbridge's job – it seemed that she was unable to do it from Azkaban Prison, after all.

"You don't sound too sure." A playful smile swept up onto the boy's face, forcing Hermione to smirk in his direction. Dammit, why had she agreed to move in with him again? Oh, right, living at the Burrow and seeing George and Katie all over one another with their precious family nearly every night wasn't something she was willing to do. She'd come to love the other Weasley, nearly as much as she had loved his brother, and Dean couldn't compare to that.

"That's because you're a pessimist. Just eat it." Dean gave a hearty laugh and pushed a piece of the pasta into his mouth, swallowing it down without further hesitation. He grinned over at her automatically.

"I knew there was a reason I asked you to move in with me." Hermione retaliated by throwing an oven mitt in his direction, hitting him square in the chest with a laugh. Dean was a lot of things, truly, but he did know how to make her smile. Maybe that's why she stuck around. George was taken, after all, engaged to be married with two beautiful little girls. They were only six months old, but that wasn't the point. George loved his family. He loved Katie. How could she take that away from him? That's right, she couldn't.

"You're an ass, Dean Thomas." He grinned over at her, having finished his dinner, and stood to his feet to pull her up into his chest.

"And you're awfully pretty."


	2. Chapter 2

A sob wracked through Hermione's small body as she found herself hidden away in the bathroom of her flat, several muggle pregnancy tests lined up along the counter of her sink. Pregnant. How in the world had she been so stupid? There wasn't a doubt in her mind that it was George's. How could it not be? Dean was careful. He was precautious and always thought ahead of time, contraceptive charms being one of his favorite things. George wasn't like that. He didn't think about it, there was so much passion between the two lovers that it was almost easy to assume the two were together. Really, really together. That was Hermione's problem – she wanted him too badly and he was taken. Dean's voice sounded through the small apartment and Hermione gave a flick of her wand, hiding the tests from her boyfriend. This would absolutely crush him – he would believe that he was going to be a father and that wasn't the case. No, George Weasley was about to add on another addition to his happy little family. An addition that wouldn't be taken very happily at all.

She wiped her eyes carefully before leaving the bathroom, smiling at Dean as if nothing had happened. He kissed her cheek carelessly, rummaging through the fridge. "Is there any left overs? I've only got a half hour for lunch today." Dean had taken over for Tom at The Leaky Cauldron. Tom had gotten far too old for his own good – and well, Dean was eager to learn the business. Hermione was happy for him, but it wasn't something she deemed a suitable job.

"Yes. There's ziti in there, or I can make you a sandwich." She raised her eyebrows at him as he pondered this for a moment. He'd eaten his fair share of ziti last night, after all.

"Sandwich it is." Hermione managed to give him a smile, one that didn't nearly reach her eyes, as she swept past him and grabbed out the things she'd need to make him a decent lunch. Bread, mayonnaise, lunch meat, cheese, and a small mess of snacks. Dean was a junk food fanatic – something Hermione couldn't break him of, no matter how hard she tried.

"Here you go." She carefully slid the food over to him, watching as he shot her a toothy smile and kissed her cheek.

"Thank you, babe. I've got to get going." He grinned over at her one last time before picking up his lunch and giving a flick of his wand. He was gone within the blink of an eye. Finally. Hermione gave another shaky breath before hurrying into her bedroom. It was a wonderful thing that she was a witch, truly, as her suitcases packed themselves. All of her things were stuffed into two bags, hovering near her as she scribbled onto a piece of parchment in her neat handwriting.

_Dean,_

_I'm sorry to just leave like this. I didn't know how to face you. It's been three years since Fred died. Three years that I'm still not healing. I need to get away from this place – away from everything. Everywhere I turn, I'm reminded of a love I could have had. A love that would have lasted forever if he hadn't died. You mean a great deal to me, you always have. I just can't see myself in a relationship with you. I'm so sorry. I hope that one day, if I do come back around, we can be friends. You were one of my greatest friends. _

_I'll miss you,_

_Hermione._

_George, _

_I don't know what I'm supposed to be saying here. I guess the obvious thing is that I've left. There's nothing for me here anymore. Fred is gone. He was all I had, and after the war? Well, this isn't a place I want to be reminded of. Go back to your family, George. Watch the girls grow like I know you so long to do. If we would have kept this up, we would have been caught. Katie would have thrown you out and you would have missed out on the best part of the twin's life. I don't want that for you. You deserve to be happy, and I know that you can't be happy with me. You'll always want your high school sweetheart, the girl who gave birth to your children, and I can't blame you for that. This is goodbye, George. I'm going to miss you dearly._

_I love you,_

_Hermione._

George found himself rereading this paper. Over and over again. It was burning into his mind. Honestly, the twenty two year old was fairly certain that he could recite it without looking down at the bit of parchment. It had been four years since Hermione left. She'd really gone, and he was so sure that she would have been back by now. Maybe it was just a lack of judgment. He would have her back into his arms in no time. That wasn't the case, though, she was really gone. The woman he needed like he needed to breath had left for good and it was his fault. God, why hadn't he left Katie years ago? They wouldn't be in this mess. He would be happy with Hermione in his arms, they'd be on their way to being married and holding their own little babies in his arms. Merlin, thoughts like this hadn't even seemed to escape his mind until she was gone. George loved her and hadn't even known it. So now he was left with a million memories. Whether it was her heartbroken face after Fred's death or her breathy moans filling his one good ear. He wanted her so badly. He always had, it appears, even though he'd never known it.

In the past, Hermione had just been Fred's girlfriend. They had dated since his seventh year, the year he and Fred had gone out with a bang. It had been miserable for the other twin until Hermione joined them in the summer. Two years. That was all the time they'd gotten together –and George knew that if Fred was still alive today, well, he'd never even look at Granger. How could he? That was his best friend's girlfriend. She was his whole world – and George suddenly understood why. He was in the same predicament. She was unforgettable.

Katie, being as observant as she was, had known something fishy was going on with George. This just increased at his sudden depression as soon as Hermione was out the door. He was sad all of the time, and she didn't even hesitate to call him out on it. George found himself admitting everything to her. Why had he done it? Maybe he just wanted out. He wanted a way out of the relationship that he was in. Merlin knows that he wasn't happy. The only thing that seemed to make him happy these days were the weekends where two little brunette toddlers ran around his home. Mrs. Weasley hadn't been happy to find out that the twins inherited their mother's hair – honestly, what was a Weasley without red hair? George was perfectly fine with it, though. He wouldn't change a single hair on their heads.

"Daddy, can I have a cookie?" George swept up Allison into his arms carefully, throwing her playfully over his shoulder like he so often did.

"Absolutely not. Your mother will have my head if I let you have sweets before dinner." However, with a wave of his wand, George suddenly held a single cookie out to the five year old and kissed her head with a wink. "So I guess it'll have to our little secret."

"Frederick Gideon, I swear to Merlin if you do not get your bum down these stairs right now there will be no television for a week!" A red headed boy bounded down the stairs. He was eleven years old now. Eleven years had gone by and she still missed George every day. Maybe it was because the son she'd named after her dead boyfriend looked just like his father. Red hair, bright eyes, and a lanky figure that she could never seem to force into gaining weight.

"Yes mum." Hermione huffed in annoyance, flipping a single strand of hair from her face. Fred hated to be forced to go everywhere with his mother – it didn't matter, though, she couldn't much afford to hire a babysitter for him. It was hard enough working two jobs and asking her mother to look after him. She was currently a bartender and a daycare provider. Working with children had always been easy for her, call it a mother's intuition, but she loved being around young children and taking care of them. It made her heart ache to think of her own son being so old already and without a father. Merlin knows he needed a father figure in his life, but Hermione couldn't find it within herself to let someone else into her life. Not after the fiasco with George.

"I know you don't want to go, but you want to eat don't you?" Her eyebrows rose slightly, as if challenging the boy. He shot her a toothy grin, so much like his father's that it nearly knocked her over every time he gave her that grin. It was often enough, too, the trouble maker that he was. "Come on, Fred. It's just the store." She gave a soft laugh and put her arm on his shoulder, kissing his head in a motherly fashion that made him scrunch up his nose in disgust. God, he was getting so old.

"I'm coming, mom." She grinned down at him, gripping his hand in hers and pulling him out of the small apartment complex. They were still in Britain – a few towns away from where the rest of the Weasley's were located. It was really a wonder they hadn't found her yet. It had been eleven years, after all. Surely someone came around every now and then. It made her heart hurt to think of Harry and Ron, the two best friends she'd left behind. There was never anything that she regretted more – aside from maybe leaving George there too. He didn't even know he had a son, a son named after the brother that the both of them had loved so much. Fred Weasley had been gone thirteen years now. It was one of the hardest things to think about. Thirteen years without the person you love most. Well, aside from the young man at her side here.

"Tomorrow we've got to go get your school things." Diagon Alley. It wasn't something she was looking forward to – was George still running the shop? It seemed incredibly likely. Why would he just give up on his dream? Fred's dream? Plus, he made a rather good salary running a business. It was more than enough to feed his daughters and Katie. Surely they were married by now.

"Hogwarts?" Fred's face lit up like it was Christmas morning. Hermione laughed and nodded her head. Despite the fact that sending her only son to Hogwarts would leave her alone during the year, and he was likely to run into his cousins and sisters, Hermione couldn't keep him away from the best years of his life. If she was lucky no one would think twice about the red hair and the name Frederick Granger. It didn't seem likely though. It was going to be a rough few years.

"Yes, Fred. Hogwarts." Hermione had been saving up for years to be able to send the boy to school with new things – the last thing she wanted was to send her only son off to Hogwarts with old robes and used text books. No, these were supposed to be the best years of his life. She wanted him to remember them with grace.

"Wicked."


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione heaved a sigh as she tapped on the mess of bricks on a building that she hadn't seen in eleven years. It was a wonder that she remembered how exactly to get into Diagon Alley. It wasn't a wonder, however, that Dean Thomas ( who was still working at the Leaky Cauldron ) had recognized her without even blinking. That had been an awkward situation, introducing him to her eleven year old son. Dean was a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid, surely he'd put two and two together and realized that she'd been cheating on him. The poor bloke probably thought it was Ron's son and they were just keeping it quiet between the family. Honestly, it wouldn't be a surprise to have Hermione name her first son after her first love even without George in the picture. George, however, had a very big impact on how she named their son.

Fred's surprised gasp, however, distracted Hermione from her thoughts. A laugh bubbled past her lips. This had been her exact reaction when she first came to the large alley of shops. Then again, Hermione had been a muggle-born. Fred had known about wizardry his entire life. Hermione had helped him practice it on numerous times – well, what little wandless magic the young boy could do. "It's fantastic, isn't it?" Fred's head nodded up and down furiously, making the thirty year old witch grin. "Well, come on then." She held out her hand for the young boy, he didn't seem inclined to take it, but the fierce look his mother shot him broke him down. With their hands intertwined, Hermione led him all over.

First was Ollivanders. It was strange to Hermione that he was still around today, surely he had to be going on a hundred years old. "Miss Hermione Granger, I heard you left." Ollivander's smooth voice rang out, making Hermione nearly jump out of her skin. He always had a knack and nearly giving heart attacks.

"I did, sir." She shot him a brilliant smile. "But how could I pass up the chance to bring my only son to meet you? You're the best wand maker in the business." The old man didn't hesitate to give the younger witch a brilliant smile, knowing fully well that she was being cheeky. It was a typical Hermione move.

"Flattery will get you everywhere." The older man, however, focused his attention on the young boy in front of him. "And who might you be?" Fred tried not to seem intimidated – however, he'd never really met many wizards. Hermione was about the extent of it and she was his mother, there was no threat there.

"I'm Fred Granger." The older man only showed surprise for a short moment before covering it up. Obviously, he hadn't expected Hermione to name her son after the twin of George Weasley.

"Well, Mr. Granger, it's good to meet you. Come along, then." Hermione watched as her son was led off into the building, listening to Ollivanders curious murmurs every now and then. Fred came back holding a wand that Ollivander declared was thirteen inches long, made of vine-wood and had a core of dragon heartstring. Fred couldn't have been more excited – and for that, Hermione was thankful to the older man. She paid him easily and gave the older man a hug of departing. It was likely that she wouldn't be seeing him again.

"Thank you, Ollivander. It's been nice seeing you again." With a small smile, she led Fred out of the building and into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occassions. The woman was handy with a wand, that's for sure. It seemed, however, that Fred was suddenly at ease. Hermione was glad. This was his world, too. She wanted him to be a part of it. After paying Madam Malkin for the robes, Hermione shooed her younger son out of the store and followed after him. "I'm going to go get your books. I know you don't like going into book stores with me. You stay on this side of the alley, you understand me?" Fred nodded his head with a brilliant grin. She was actually trusting him not to get into trouble – which wasn't something she did often. Fred was truly just like the uncle he was named for.

It was a quick run in for Hermione. Usually when she came into a book store she was there for hours. Today, however, she didn't have the time or money. Fred was outside by himself – and his father's shop was just down the street. The last thing she needed was for him to go in there. If George still worked in that shop, which it was likely that he did, that was the shop that he and Fred built together. Just because he'd expanded didn't mean that he'd switch stores. As Hermione walked out of the shop she heaved a sigh of relief. It was good that there was a new clerk. Merlin only knows the conversation that would have taken place if Neville Longbottom still worked in that god forsaken store.

"Fred!" He wasn't there. Oh god, where in the bloody hell had that boy gone? Hermione's eyes searched frantically for her young son, only to find him bounding up the street – to a large purple and orange building. No, oh god no. She hurried after him, practically running up the street to catch him. She caught some odd while doing such a thing. Fred, however, glanced over to see her and booked it towards the store. She cussed under her breath as he ran into the store. Stopping for a moment, she contemplated what would happen if she just stayed here for a moment. It was more than likely that George would try to figure out why a kid had run into his store as fast as he could manage, then he'd ask his mother's name, and when he found out it was Hermione? Well, that wouldn't be good. The girl shook her head and stepped into the store, an obviously livid expression of her face. Fred caught her eye automatically – and he was talking to George. She froze in her tracks, fear radiating through her entire body. Shit. Shit. Shit. No, this couldn't be happening. The eleven year old lifted his head and hid behind the older man automatically, the action made her heart hurt. It was almost as if George was being a father to him.

A loud laugh left George's lips as he turned his head to look at the mother who had obviously frightened the younger boy and froze. Hermione was frozen in complete and utter fear. No, George wasn't an idiot. Red hair, freckles, mischievous. That little boy was so obviously a Weasley. He was so obviously George Weasley's son. "Hermione?" The dark haired girl gave a curt nod and stepped around him to grip her younger son's arm gently, kneeling next to him.

"I thought I told you not to wander?" Fred didn't even have the decency to look guilty. He just shot her a cheeky grin and nodded his head.

"You did, this place is cool though. I didn't think you'd be so fast." A glare swept up into her face as she stood to her full height, glancing over at George for a moment. Her expression softened automatically. He looked more than perplexed.

"It was nice seeing you, George." She made Fred set down a product he was holding and snatched up his hand, so obviously on edge. Even Fred didn't seem to argue.

"Hermione, wait!" She froze for a moment, glancing down at Fred and biting her lip. She sighed softly.

"Go pick something out, Fred. One thing." The little red head shot his mother a brilliant grin automatically and swiftly headed over to a display as George sauntered up to her.

"You named him Fred?" Hermione's eyebrow rose gently, as if that had been a stupid question. Which really, it had been.

"Are you surprised?"

"Yes. Not because you named him Fred, though, because he looks just like my dear twin." Hermione froze once more. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." George sighed loudly and glanced over at the young boy, biting his lower lip in thought for a moment.

"Is he mine, Hermione?" A million different thoughts raced through the dark haired girl's mind in a split second. She could lie. That would just make things worse though. She could tell him, let Fred have the father he deserved and let George hate her for the rest of her life despite how much she still cared for him, or she could take Fred's arm and pull him from the shop. None of those options were really something she wanted to do.

"Yes." George closed his eyes, even if he already knew the answer, and placed his fingers on his temple.

"How could you not tell me, Hermione?" He seemed pained, and really, Hermione couldn't blame him. She would be furious in his place.

"You were getting married, George. You have two beautiful daughters with Katie. I wasn't going to ruin that for you." The thirty two year old glared down at her automatically, his fingers searching into his pocket to find a piece of parchment that he'd never gotten rid of. Her love was scribbled against the bottom. It had been the only time she'd told him that she loves him.

"I loved you, Hermione. You left. You left without saying goodbye. I told Katie. She left me. With or without you, that wasn't going to last. Now I find out you left because you were carrying my baby?!" Once again, Hermione was frozen in the spot she stood.

"This isn't a conversation to have here, George." Once again, his eyes were narrowed in her direction.

"I don't trust you to come back." Hermione's eyes averted towards the ground automatically, surprised that it had taken her this long to tear up.

"Despite what you think, I only left for you. I'll come back, George. I promise." She glanced over at her son, pulling out a few galleons and thrusting them into George's palm. "This should cover whatever he wants. Tell him to meet me outside." She swiftly left the store, leaving a bewildered George behind her.


	4. Chapter 4

**I just want to thank you guys SO much for your feedback on this story. I won't be updating for a few days, but I'm excited about where this is heading. Review, please. It means so much.**

George couldn't believe this was happening. He had children, yes. Two beautiful little girls that he had talked to while they were still safely inside of their mother, held onto as soon as they were born, he'd seen them grow up. This wasn't like that. Hermione had kept his son from him for eleven years. That was eleven years of time wasted, eleven years that he could have been encouraging his only son to be just like the prankster he was named after. Could she possibly disappear again? Would she do that to him? No, George couldn't believe that she would. Hermione was never the type to purposely hurt someone. What she'd done, she'd done it to protect him. She'd done a shitty job of it, but she'd still done it.

That certainly didn't mean that he forgave her. How could he? After she'd gone and done something like this? It was unforgivable. Then again, wasn't cheating on Katie with his dead brother's girlfriend just as bad? Yeah, he knew that it was. Merlin, they'd made so many mistakes. He regretted most of the things in his life, but nothing like he regretted Hermione. He regretted not asking her to marry him when he had the chance, not holding his new born son in his arms. She thought that he'd want to get on with his life with Katie. Hadn't she known how miserable he was? No. Of course she didn't. Hermione would have believed him to be miserable over the fact that he was sleeping around. She would have felt guilty.

His thoughts were pushed away for a short moment as an owl tapped at the glass, forcing George to stand to his feet and retrieve a letter so obviously meant for him. He gave the bird an affection pat on the back before letting his gaze fall to the piece of parchment.

_George, _

_I told you that I'm not going to run again. I'm not. If you want in Fred's life, you're welcome. I'm sorry that I've kept this from you – and you have no obligations. I'm not expecting anything from you. Stay at the shop, live like you have been. If that's what you want. If you want to meet him, though, properly meet him you're welcome to come by. I've hooked up my floo. You're welcome anytime._

_All my love,_

_Hermione._

Hermione found herself pacing back and forth in front of her television stand. Dear lord, why had she sent George that letter? He wasn't going to come. What would he want with them? George had a life. Two daughters, a successful business, a family that loves him. What did Hermione have? A tiny apartment, two jobs, and a son that she could hardly afford to take care of. A son she loved more than anything in the entire world.

The sound of an explosion coming from Fred's bedroom sent the woman flying up the stairs, flinging his door open and nearly groaning with relief. He really was his father's son. "What are you doing up here?" A sheepish grin swept up onto his face.

"I'm experimenting." He held up his potions book and the slightly melted cauldron set by his feet. Hermione snatched the book away from him automatically and with a wave of her wand repaired the cauldron.

"You'll get this back the night before you leave." A groan pushed past his lips, but Hermione couldn't help the slight sense of pride swelling up in her stomach. "You're going to be a fantastic wizard, Fred." With a soft kiss to his head, Hermione left the room and closed the door behind her. She couldn't see Fred's beaming smile.

The sound of the floo activating had nearly sent Hermione tumbling down the stairs in surprise. Had he actually showed up? She peaked her head out, seeing a mess of red hair waving around. It wasn't the Weasley she'd been expecting, but there was no doubt in her mind that she was happy to see her. Could Ginny Potter even be considered a Weasley anymore?

"Merlin, Ginny!" The slender girl glanced up automatically, a brilliant grin sweeping over her face.

"Hermione Granger, where the hell have you been?!" Hermione was swept up into a fierce hug, which was slightly blocked by Ginny's obvious pregnant stomach, but it was just as warm.

"I've been right here." She nodded her head softly, motioning around the living room that they were standing in.

"Oh you know what I mean. You didn't even say goodbye, you know. My husband has a bone to pick with you." Hermione sighed softly and shrugged her shoulders in acknowledgement, leading the woman who was once considered her best friend into her small kitchen.

"He'll have to get in line." Ginny's expression softened automatically, her hand resting on Hermione's for a short moment. It was odd. Hermione expected Ginny to be furious with her – then again, she didn't even know about Fred. That would be a glorious moment. "How did you get here, anyways?" A soft smile swept up onto the red head's face automatically.

"George. He told me you had your floo connected. I didn't know I could move so fast pregnant." A laugh poured past Hermione's lips automatically, making Ginny grin. "Why did you leave?" The laugh was already gone from Hermione's lips. It was kind of obvious that she'd be getting this question – but was she ready for it? No, she wasn't. Ginny was so forgiving. Would she be as forgiving if Hermione told her what really happened?

"Mom, when is dinner?" The little red headed boy bounded into the room, glancing at Ginny curiously for a short moment. She held little interest to him – she wasn't edible, after all. Hermione chuckled softly and glanced at the clock on the wall.

"I'd give it an hour. There are strawberries in the fridge if you're hungry." He very nearly ran to the fridge, pulling out the container of strawberries and placing one to his lips effortlessly. Once he'd swallowed, and Ginny had gotten over her initial shock, he glanced back over at her.

"Who are you?" Hermione gave her son a distasteful look for his lack of manners. Not that she'd actually introduced the two – but there hadn't been a chance up until then.

"Ginny, this is my son, Fred. Fred, this is your um, your Aunt Ginny." Ginny didn't seem surprised. Maybe it was because she'd suspected that she'd been seeing George – or maybe she just assumed that Hermione still thought of her as a sister, and therefore she was deemed an aunt. It seemed more likely that she believed the last option.

"You never told me I have an aunt." He didn't seem accusing, just curious. Hermione arched an eyebrow automatically.

"You have an aunt and five uncles – plus everyone they've married and their kids." Fred's eyes grew rather large. Hermione knew that this was a shock for him – he'd had a family, sure, all of the Grangers were more than welcoming to him. They all loved the little boy like he was their own, but finding out about a whole other side had to be hard on him. Hermione felt bad, honestly. She'd kept him from so much. She'd kept George from seeing his son grow up, too.

Ginny glanced at her friend for a moment before pursing her lips in thought. Hermione knew what she was thinking – which of her brothers had she kept a baby from? Ron, George, or maybe even Charlie? It couldn't have been Fred Weasley himself, he'd been long since dead by the time she got pregnant. Hermione sighed softly and ruffled up Fred's hair.

"Why don't you go on up to your room for a minute? You can take the strawberries with you but if you eat them all I'm going to beat you." Fred barked a laugh and nodded automatically, scurrying out of the room after giving Ginny a second glance.

"Who's his dad?" Hermione glanced over at her friend for a moment, tugging her fingers through her mess of curly hair.

"George." There was no shocked silence, no surprised faces, no gasps of horror. Ginny simply nodded her head in acknowledgement.

"I figured. That's why you left?" Hermione nodded her head very slowly.

"Yes. I mean, he was engaged to be married. I didn't want to mess that up for him." A sigh passed through Ginny's lips automatically.

"You messed that up for him when you two started sleeping together." The younger girl pushed herself off of the counter that she'd pushed herself up onto, glancing at the bushy haired girl. "It was because of Fred, wasn't it? You two had been in love. George was the closest you could get to him." Hermione felt her stomach fall to the ground automatically.

"Do you really think that badly of me, Ginny? No. Of course not. I loved George. Maybe not quite like I loved Fred, but are two loves ever the same? I wouldn't have left if I didn't love George. I wanted him to be happy. He seemed so happy with Katie and the twins. How could I take that away from him?" Ginny closed her eyes for a moment, glancing up at the woman in front of her.

"Why did you start sleeping together?"  
"We were hurting." That seemed to be the only answer that Ginny needed as she pulled the older woman into her arms and let her seek out the comfort she'd been needing so badly over the last eleven years.

Ginny had left hours ago with a promise to return the next day. Hermione didn't doubt that she'd arrive with her entire family in tow – Harry and the kids. She didn't mind. Merlin knows that she'd missed that bunch. So, when the floo activated, Hermione knew that it could only be one person. The one person she longed to see more than anyone else. She didn't move from her spot in the kitchen though, having just started to clean up her kitchen. She'd made Fred's favorite – calzones. It was something she'd learned from her mother, basically turning a pizza inside out. It was certainly interesting, that's for sure.

"Hermione?" She turned around swiftly at the sound of a voice directly behind her. When had he learned to walk so quietly?

"George, hi." The girl carefully wiped her hands on her jeans and glanced up at him, managing a small smile in his direction. "Um, are you hungry? I've got some leftovers from dinner." The man let his gaze leave her for a moment to regard the food curiously.

"What in the bloody hell is that?" A laugh bubbled past her lips, raising her eyebrows gently.

"It's like an inside out pizza – it's good." He bit his lip for a moment before nodding his head.

"You're not trying to off me, right?" Hermione swatted at him without much thinking about it before murmuring a warming charm on the food and pushing it over to him.

"You're not funny, Weasley." He smirked up at her, poking at the food for a moment.

"On last name terms now, are we Granger?" George carefully placed a bit of the food into his mouth, moaning with content. Had he really doubted her cooking skills so much? Then again, she never did have the chance to cook for him. Their relationship had been mostly physical.

"Nope." She carefully sat down at the table her son's father sat at, drumming her fingers carefully on the wooden table. "So um, have you decided what you're doing?" He glanced up at her and swallowed the food in his mouth casually.

"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him – I'm his father. I want to be in his life." Hermione nodded her head softly, glancing over at him for a moment.

"I'm glad. I'll just, um, I'll go get him." George put his hand on her knee for a moment and frowned at her gently.

"I'm not forgiving you for this, Hermione. I can't." She nodded slowly, frowning at the ginger currently sitting at the kitchen table.

"I know. It's unforgivable. Just, eat. I'll go explain to Fred." He nodded his head carefully, returning his obviously hurt gaze to the mess of food in front of him, trying his best to eat it all as fast as he could. Same old George – food comes first.

Hermione didn't knock on Fred's door, and he seemed surprised by this. His mother always knocked before coming in. "Mom, what's up?" He set the video game controller down on the bed and turned to her. She paused for a moment.

"Your father is here. He'd like to meet you."


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione found herself pacing back and forth in her living room the next morning. Why on earth had she allowed George to take Fred overnight? When were they coming back? Would he bring him back? She shook the thought from her head. Of course George would bring their son back. Hermione had nothing else to live for – they both knew that. She hadn't really had much of a choice though, when you work the hours that Hermione does, she was more than willing to let George take their son off of her hands. This way, she wouldn't have to call her mother and beg her to come babysit. A bar wasn't exactly a suitable place for an eleven year old to be running around.

It seemed, however, that Hermione was so completely out of it with worry that she hadn't heard the floo activate until a flurry of dark haired boys and a single red headed girl stood in her living room. Hermione raised an eyebrow, these must have been Ginny and Harry's children. This was only confirmed as Harry Potter's lanky form stepped from the Granger fireplace. He didn't look much different – the scar was still there, his glasses still perched on the bridge of his nose, and his hair was as messy as ever. Hermione had never been so glad to see someone in all of her life. "Well, look what the cat dragged in." Harry grinned at the muggle reference before Hermione had launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a fierce hug that she honestly hadn't known she was capable of. Harry had no problem wrapping his own arms around her tightly, holding onto one of his dearest friends as if she was going to die the next morning.

"I've missed you 'Mione." The girl smiled at the nickname and forced herself to pull away from the hug, willing herself not to cry as she so longed to. It would have been happy tears – Harry was back. She had seen her very best friend once again. There was nothing better than that. Ginny was standing behind them, a wide grin pressing against her lips.

"You have no idea, Harry." An impatient noise interrupted their small moment and Hermione glanced over at the eldest boy – she already knew all of their names. Ginny had filled her in the day before. "So, you must be James." He seemed proud that she knew who he was, though still slightly annoyed at having been ignored. He was eleven. Ginny must have gotten pregnant soon after Hermione did.

"I am. Who are you?" Hermione grinned once more, realizing this had to be rather weird for the mess of children. They'd never seen her before in their lives and there she had been, latching onto their father for dear life.

"I'm Hermione Granger." Albus made a noise of interest automatically. Apparently, they'd heard the name before.

"You're daddy's friend?" This time it was Lily that spoke, and Hermione resisted the urge to mess up her hair like she so often did to Fred.

"Right you are, Lily." She grinned over at Albus next, he seemed rather uncomfortable. "Has your father been telling you awful stories about me, then, Albus? I swear I was only a cat once." Booming laughter left both Harry and Ginny's lips, and then the three adults had been launched into a story about the mishap with polyjuice potion. It truly hadn't been one of Hermione's finer moments.

"Mom, I'm home." Hermione felt her heart stop and the restart again. George had brought him home in one piece. That was all she could have asked for. Harry's rather large family still sat around the dinner table, laughing about one thing or another. They hadn't noticed the little red headed boy and his father watching on with an amused expression. She stood up swiftly, pulling two plates from the microwave. George glanced at the object curiously, obviously not having known what it was. She didn't bother explaining it – he'd never need one.

"I saved you both dinner." With a kiss to Fred's head, she glanced up at George with a slight grin. "I bet he gave you a run for your money, didn't he?" The grin on George's face was priceless.

"You have no idea how literal that statement was." Hermione raised an eyebrow at him as Fred smirked on, obviously pleased with himself.

"I bet him that I could beat him in a race – and I did, so he had to take me out to ice cream." Hermione laughed softly and shook her head automatically, ruffling up the young boy's hair as he shied away from her touch, obviously embarrassed. "Mom!" She just shot the eleven year old a smirk.

"Oh, go introduce yourself to your cousins then." Fred had no problems taking his food, chicken and pasta, and retiring to the dining room that was filled with laughing children and their parents. George glanced over at her for a moment, tugging his fingers through his unkempt hair.

"You've done a good job with him, Mi." The thirty year old felt as if she was nineteen again at the use of his nickname, giggling at something that George had whispered in her ear – undoubtedly dirty. It was a strangely familiar feeling. A feeling that she had missed dearly.

"Thank you, George." She smiled softly and sat herself down on one of the stools that sat at the small counter, motioning for the Weasley man to go on inside the dining room and eat. He, however, sat next to her instead and popped a piece of pasta into his mouth.

"I see them all of the time." It was an easy enough explanation, one that she knew wasn't a lie. It was a good excuse though. One that she knew he'd use as long as she would let him.

"You don't have to explain to me." George shot her a grin, carelessly shoving a piece of his long hair behind his good ear. "You do, however, need a haircut." It was strange to see a thirty two year old man look like a betrayed ten year old, but Hermione shouldn't have been surprised. He was a ten year old at heart.

"Mum tells me that every time she looks at me, I swear on it." Hermione giggled automatically, thankful that her hair was pulled up into a short ponytail so that it wouldn't get in her face so easily.

"Your mother is a smart woman, you should listen to her." She'd never seen a boy scoff so fast in all of her life – it was actually surprising he was able to do it so well with a piece of chicken shoved between his teeth. He swallowed and gave a sigh, glancing at the woman for a short moment.

"If I let you cut my hair, will you bring Fred over to the shop tomorrow? I want him to meet the girls." Hermione could have laughed out loud.

"You're bargaining with me so that I'll let our son meet his sisters?" It seemed that George was pretty sheepish by this – honestly, he'd been meaning to get a haircut anyways. The problem was that Katie would be there, and he knew Hermione wasn't going to be comfortable with that. How could she be? Katie Bell hated her. There was no way around it. She would, however, let it go for the children. Katie was happily married now – to George's best mate, actually. Lee had graciously taken Katie off of George's hands without much thought. George honestly hadn't minded though – they were incredibly happy together and Lee was good to the girls. What did he have to complain about?

"Yes." Hermione giggled softly, reaching over and snatching up a pair of kitchen scissors from the counter.

"You'd better get ready, then. You might actually be able to hear out of your good ear if you can see it."

**Author's note; I'm not exactly fond of this chapter. It was a bit of a filler if I'm being honest. Harry's back, though. Two thirds of the dynamic duo are back together. What do you think of Katie & Lee getting together? I think they'd be sort of cute, myself. Tell me your thoughts, loves!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I don't know how much longer this story is going to be - I have two more chapters written so far. There will probably be around twelve chapters and an epilogue. Thank you guys for all the support you've given me on this! **

Hermione was nervous. Wasn't she always nervous about something these days? Shaking the thought from her head, the thirty year old carelessly held her only son's hand on the walk up to George's joke shop. God, Katie Bell was going to start shouting hexes as soon as the bushy haired witch walked through the door. She was so sure of it. Why had George insisted that Hermione come along? It wasn't like she would be his first choice to meet his daughters, after all. She had been their father's mistress – whether or not they knew it wasn't the point. "Mom, why are you so nervous? It's just dad." Hermione glanced back over at Fred for a moment, raising her eyebrows for a moment.

"Did George tell you who you're meeting today?" Fred paused, glancing at his mother for a short moment. That was an obvious no. "You're meeting your sisters. They're a year older than you, and their mother will be there as well." Maybe she shouldn't have told him – but honestly, letting the poor boy know ahead of time seemed to be a much better strategy. Why hadn't George bothered filling him in?

Fred didn't say a word until they were just outside the shop, turning to glance at the woman who had raised him so selfishly with obvious fear etched across his face. "What if they don't like me?" The way he spoke, in such a manner that Hermione just wanted to hold him for the next three years, made the middle-aged woman's heart hurt. He was so vulnerable. It was her fault, too – Fred should have been around his family while growing up. This wasn't fair to him.

"What's not to like?" She carefully kissed the young boy's flaming red hair before opening the door to the shop, some sort of firework flying past her head. Shaking her head in obvious amusement, Hermione stepped into the shop after Fred and let him run over to greet his father. They were already so at ease with one another – it had to be that Weasley blood. Hermione hadn't been at ease a day in her life.

"Ahem." A girlish sound, surprisingly similar to Umbridge, made Hermione jump and turn in the direction that she was so sure her old Defense Against The Dark Arts professor was going to be standing. However, it seemed Katie Bell – Katie Jordan, had a knack for impersonating that god awful woman. She didn't seem mad – which was something, Hermione though idly.

"Katie. It's nice to see you again." Lee Jordan stood to her side, a young boy that couldn't have been more than three years old sitting on his hip. Lee shot the bushy haired witch a bright grin, one that he'd never given to her before. The last time she saw him was for Fred Weasley's funeral. That had been the hardest day of her life – harder than the day she'd left George, even. It had been accepting that the love of her life was really gone. She shuddered from the memory.

"Hermione, lovely to see you dear." The dark skinned wizard had always been one of Hermione's favorite people – aside from when she was berating him with the Weasley twins at Hogwarts for their irresponsible pranks. He was too funny to honestly dislike. That had always been her weakness with the Weasley twins – they were utterly hysterical. Though, it seemed that George wasn't quite there anymore. He was much more laid back – he was an adult now. A father to three children. That had to have had an effect on him.

"Oi, Lee Jordan. I never thought I'd see the day that you cut all your hair off." The thirty two year old man shot a brilliant grin in Hermione's direction, using his free hand to touch the top of his head.

"He looked silly with those awful things hanging from his head." Katie spoke up for the first time, a smile playing on her lips. Apparently, she hadn't been a fan of his dreadlocks. Hermione could certainly understand why – she'd have made him cut them off as well. Just like she'd cut George's hair the night before.

"I'm inclined to agree." Lee mumbled something under his breath that Hermione didn't quite catch, but he'd received a swat upside the head by his wife. This made Hermione grin, well, until she caught sight of her little red head playing with a display of Whizbangs. "Frederick Granger, don't you dare!" Katie's eyes automatically snapped to the eleven year old in surprise. Apparently, George hadn't gotten the chance to tell her about Fred quite yet. Hermione excused herself automatically, marching over to her only son and pulling him away from the display, much to George's amusement.

"Still haven't learned to loosen up then, Mi?" He looked good with his new haircut, Hermione had to admit, she was rather fond of the fact that she could see his scars from the war. They'd always been her favorite parts of him. His missing ear, the scar on his upper thigh, and the small scar that rested above his eyebrow. He was truly a sight for sore eyes. Then again, none of the Weasley boys were what you'd call ugly.

"George Weasley, control your son." He chuckled under his breath as Fred shot his mother a look of distain. Obviously, he hadn't appreciated her comment. Not that Hermione could find it within herself to care anyways.

"Come on, Freddiekins. I'd better teach you how to woo a woman – you're not doing a very good job." Hermione turned so quick she was sure she'd left some sort of hole in the floor.

"You will _not!_" More laughter surrounded her, except this time it was Katie and Lee Jordan beside her. This was really getting strange – why didn't Katie absolutely hate her? Oh, right. She'd got her happy ending. Hermione was still alone.

"Honestly, George. You have such a way with women." Lee's comment had the desired effect, seeing as Katie had taken the small child from his arms already, and George launched something that looked heavy at his best friend.

"Bugger off." Hermione looked appalled.

"In front of your son? Real nice, George. Honestly." Katie was in a fit of giggles, and Lee seemed to feel rather successful. George glowered at his ex-lover.

"He's not a baby, Hermione."

"He's _my_ baby, George." An awkward silence surrounded them for a short moment before two different pair of footsteps hurried down the stairs. Fred seemed pleased at his mother's words – it had to have been nice knowing someone was always going to care about you. Hermione knew that just up those stairs had been the apartment that Fred and George had once shared. The thought made her chest ache –there was no helping it. Thinking of the man she had once loved still hurt to this day, and it had been thirteen years. If it wasn't for little Fred, she wasn't sure that she'd have made it through those last eleven years. She was so incredibly broken and it wasn't fair to her little man.

"Dad! Look what we've found!" It was a high pitched voice, one that so obviously belonged to a child. A dark haired little girl, followed very closely by her twin sister, was holding up something that looked suspiciously like an old prefect badge. Hermione raised an eyebrow as George burst out laughing.

"That's your Uncle Percy's old badge. Fred and I bewitched it to say Pinhead and never changed it back. Percy didn't have much use for it after that." One thing that George had prided himself on was that most of his inventions, unless he told you the counter-spell, couldn't be undone. The likes of Dumbledore, rest his soul, couldn't undo it. Hermione had always supported their joke shop – even if she hadn't thought it would work out for them. That's why she'd always encouraged Fred to finish school, even though he hadn't, but it worked out for them. Fourteen years later and this business was still flourishing. Hermione couldn't have been more proud of the identical twins. If only the eldest had been here to see it.

"He hated you two for that," Hermione grinned over at him, tugging her fingers through her mess of hair. George nodded his head in agreement, not seeming phased by it.

"He hated us for tons of things. The prat got over it." He glanced over at the eleven year old who seemed to be like some sort of deer in headlights, frowning thoughtfully for a moment. "Girls, this is Fred. He's your little brother." He grinned at the twins, who seemed baffled by this – but not down right put out, and glanced back at Fred. "Freddiekins, this is Allison and Rebecca. If you can tell them apart in an hour I'll give you five galleons." Apparently George still had problems telling his little girls apart. Not that she could really blame him, after all, if Fred had still been alive she was sure Molly Weasley would still have that problem despite the missing ear. Oh, god. Molly Weasley. What in the world was she supposed to do about the rest of the Weasley clan? They were never going to forgive her for this. She'd taken away George's only son – she'd slept with a man engaged to be married. Absently, Hermione wondered how much they actually knew about that.

Fred glanced back at his mother for a moment before taking a shaky breath. "Hello." The twins seemed amused by how nervous he was, neither of the two hesitating to take one of his arms and pull him off to the back of the store. Hermione regarded the action curiously before giving a shrug of her shoulders and turning back to Katie and Lee. Katie was shaking her head at her daughters actions – they were Weasley twins, what had she been expecting?

"So, who's this little guy?" Hermione grinned down at the young boy in his mother's arm. He shied away from Hermione – obviously because he hadn't known her.

"Tommy, can you say hi?" Lee's voice rang out quietly to his son, but it didn't seem that it was very likely. Hermione was smiling once more.

"He's a beautiful baby." Katie was grinning once more, muttering her thank you as she carefully situated the young boy in her arms.

"I'm going to floo on back home, George. He needs a nap. You're okay with the girls?" George waved her off without thinking about it, helping a customer as he went along.

"Yeah yeah, go on." Katie grinned, grabbing her husband's hand and nodding towards Hermione once before stepping into the floo. Lee waited, waving once towards Hermione and following after the other woman. Well, that had been sufficiently awkward.

It was slightly strange, sitting in George's extremely large country home. He had done so well for himself – and then there was Hermione, living in a two bedroom apartment that she could hardly afford to keep. She was glad that he'd done so well though, Fred would love running around here on the weekends. "So, where are you working now Mi?" Hermione glanced over at George and raised an eyebrow for a moment.

"I'm a bartender on the weekends, daycare provider during the week." Apparently, he seemed slightly surprised. Hermione could have gotten any job she wanted down in the Ministry of Magic and she was working minimum wage jobs. It was really stupid of her, honestly, but there wasn't much she could have done about it. Keeping her son fed and staying off the magical radar, that's what she'd been concerned about over the last decade.

"You're brilliant, Hermione. Why on Earth are you working two jobs? As a bartender, nonetheless?" Hermione shrugged her shoulders carelessly, tugging her slim fingers through her mess of curls.

"It put food on the table, George." Carefully, the woman glanced over her shoulder to see her sleeping son surrounded by pillows and two identical twelve year olds lying beside him. They'd gotten on swimmingly – at least now he wouldn't be going to Hogwarts alone. James Potter had been quite taken with him, as well, and Hermione couldn't have been happier.

"About that.." George's words trailed off, leaving Hermione to glance back at him for a moment with her eyebrow raised. "I'd like you two to move in with me." It seemed as if everything was going in slow motion for a moment. Was he out of his mind?

"George, I don't think that would be a good idea." He brushed this off easily, as if he'd been expecting that answer.

"I've thought a lot about it Hermione. Look, I know you haven't got much money – I've got plenty. I can give Fred the life I know you want for him. I can get to know my son. We can become friends again, Mi. Just give it a chance, yeah? You can move out whenever you're uncomfortable and take Fred with you." It was a convincing argument, that's for sure, but Hermione was not going to budge. Not on this.

"I can't, George. It isn't going to happen." She gave the older man a sad smile before standing to her feet. "I'm going on home. Whenever he gets up, tell him to come on back – or send him upstairs, just owl me." George reached out once more, snatching up the witch's hand in his.

"Think about it, 'Mione. Please."


	7. Chapter 7

_Miss. Granger,_

_This is your final notice. You have thirty days to get your affairs in order. If you are not out within the time limit you will have a police officer escort you out._

_Wishing you well,_

_Theodore Hordle. _

Hermione found herself staring at this letter over and over again – well, not so much the letter as the large envelope that came with it. An eviction notice? How had this happened? It couldn't be possible! Hermione Granger always paid her bills. She was almost always on time, as well. It had to be some sort of practical joke. Maybe George had been up to it, wondering if he could scare her into moving in with him. She shook the thought from her head automatically. George wouldn't do that. It wasn't within his nature. He wasn't so cruel.

This was really happening – Hermione was being evicted. Fred was being forced out of the only home he'd ever known. They were going to have to take George up on his offer – she just didn't have the money to find a place to go right now. With a loud sigh, the woman slipped the envelope into her purse and began working on dinner. Thirty days. She still had thirty days.

It was strange, really, how fast time could go. Nearly ten days had gone by since Hermione received the letter telling her to get out of the home she'd known for the last decade or so. It was really quite cruel. Though, she had thought more about her options. There was always her parent's house – but she already asked them to do so much for her, could she really burden them with this? Then there was Ginny, but Ginny already had three children of her own and another on the way. How on earth could she impose on them? That left her with George. George Weasley – the man she'd slept with for two years, the father of her child, and someone who earnestly wanted the woman and their son to live with him. It was dangerous, though, getting too close to George again. Could she stop herself from falling in love with him a second time? He'd never want her back in any form – not after she'd left without letting him know she was pregnant with his third child. A sigh pressed past her lips. There really wasn't another choice.

"Hermione, dear, we need to have a little chat." Ten more days left in the apartment. Ten days, oh lord, she still hadn't talked to George about moving in – what was she going to do? Shaking that thought from her head, Hermione turned to look at one half of the infamous Weasley twins and raised an eyebrow.

"Is that so?" For the first time in what seemed like forever, George looked nervous. Oh lord, this couldn't be good. What had Fred gotten into now?

"Yes. I told my parents about Fred." Hermione was frozen in place. Oh, no. No, no, no. This could not be happening. Of course she wanted them in Fred's life – they were his grandparents and she loved the both of them so much, but she'd hoped to be present whenever the two found out about the little red headed devil she called her son.

"You could have warned me, George." A scoff twisted up onto his face effortlessly.

"You could have warned me eleven years ago, Hermione." Okay, that was a low blow – but an extremely fair one at the same time. She huffed slightly and nodded her head. "They want to meet him tonight. They're not angry – well, I don't think they're angry. My mum is hurt though. She's always considered you her own, you know." Hermione made a face automatically. There was no one she'd ever regret hurting more than Molly Weasley. The woman had given up her home to Hermione in her time of need, always treated her like a daughter, and wanted the young girl to marry the eldest twin more than she wanted to breathe. It must have just seemed wrong to her for Hermione to have ended up with George's child. The witch knew then that she'd taken Molly Weasley screaming at her for the next ten years over hurting her.

"I know." A soft sigh slipped past the middle-aged witch's lips before she nodded once. "Yeah, okay. Tonight is good." A triumphant grin slipped up onto the thirty two year old man's face automatically. "And George?" He'd turned to go back to the register, Hermione had stopped in on her way to go apply for a job at the Ministry of Magic.

"Yes?"

"I've thought about your offer, um, moving in with you. If it's still up, I think it would be a splendid idea." The smile that erupted onto the man's face was nearly blinding – and the fact that it made Hermione's stomach twist into knots wasn't something you'd ever get her to admit.

"Brilliant."

"George Weasley, stop it this instant!" Some people never grew up – George Weasley was one of those people. Not that Hermione was complaining, of course, he was loads of fun. He always had been. It was something that she'd always loved about the mischievous man. Molly Weasley, however, had other opinions seeing as her thirty two year old son was currently using his spoon to toss noodles across the room at his own children. Fred was absolutely loving it, Allison and Rebecca didn't share his giddiness. Hermione giggled to herself quietly as she leaned across the table, murmuring into his one good ear.

"She's going to castrate you." George chortled automatically, knowing fully well that his mother would never hurt a hair on his head. He paused for a moment, glancing around the table – presumably for his next victim. Unlucky for his brother, George had no problems whatsoever filling his spoon up once more and flicking it towards the third eldest. Percy gasped in surprise, Audrey giggling at his side as his daughter roared with laughter. Lucy Weasley was a good kid – she was just like her Uncle George, however, in that she loved to cause as much trouble as possible. It was a bit weird, seeing as Percy happened to be her father. The family dinner hadn't been quite as big as Hermione would have hoped – she wanted to see her friends again. Ron, Harry, Charlie, nor Bill and Fleur had shown up to the dinner table. They all had prior things to attend too. So, the only Weasley boy's present were Percy and George. Hermione hadn't gotten to latch onto his younger brother like she had so intended too.

"Are you quite done then, brother?" Percy's voice was as stiff as ever, his bright colored eyes narrowed at his younger brother. George grinned and placed a piece of the pasta into his mouth.

"Yeah, only because mum won't give me more pasta." Once again, Hermione was giggling into her hand. He really was impossible. Tonight had gone smoothly though – Molly wasn't mad. She was so very upset, but she believed that Hermione's intentions had been good. Apparently George had explained everything. Hermione couldn't have been more grateful to him for that. The older woman ignored her sons, setting her eyes on Hermione for what must have been the tenth time in the last half an hour. She'd been questioning her life – what had been going on, how Fred had been growing up. George said that she'd cried for nearly ten minutes after learning that Hermione had named the young boy Fred. She supposed that it was time to get his last name changed to Weasley, if that was what the boy wanted anyways. She'd speak to George about it.

"So, Hermione dear, I heard you applied for your old Ministry job." A smile lit up the younger woman's face automatically, nodding her head in agreement.

"I did. I've been working with muggles for the last decade. The pay isn't exactly good." Of course, she didn't really want to tell Mrs. Weasley that she'd been working at a muggle bar in Downtown London. It was a fantastic thing that she didn't ask questions. Two days ago, Hermione had let go of her daycare job. She simply didn't have the time or energy for it. Besides, she was fairly confident that the Ministry would take her back – Kingsley had to have been dying without her recently. She had been his secretary – she did just about everything for him. Call her stuck up, but no one could do Hermione's job like Hermione.

"So you're around muggles often? What are they like?" This was Arthur Weasley – George's father. He was horribly obsessed with all things muggle. She giggled softly and brushed a piece of hair out of her face, vaguely aware of George's eyes on her.

"They're daft, really daft." Despite the fact that the people were incredibly intelligent, most of the time, they were so unaware of everything going on around them. Hermione could have made it snow inside of the building and they would call it a miraculous scientific breakthrough. It couldn't be magic, of course, there was no such thing. "I'll tell you what, Mr. Weasley. I've got an old microwave. It's used to heat up food and such, you can have it. Just don't put metal in it – it'll react badly." It was like Christmas morning for the older man. He was so excited it was actually kind of cute. George just shook his head softly, leaning over to murmur in her ear.

"I think you've just made his year." Hermione grinned over at the man, her eyes completely lighting up.

"It's all in a day's work."

"Merlin, Hermione. What do you have in this thing?" George's voice broke through the large house – he was carrying one of Hermione's many boxes. She'd packed up her entire home and was in the process of moving it all through to George's large house.

"George, are you a wizard or not?" She gave a flick of her wand and watched as the box flew from George's hand, his scoff showing his displeasure in this movement.

"I'm a man, Hermione. We move things with our hands." A giggle slipped past her lips as the box landed in the kitchen, the place it was meant to go.

"Yes, well you're also a successful business owner who's lunch break is almost up." A colorful choice of words left his lips automatically as he flicked his wand over his shoulder and Hermione watched several boxes come bounding her way. She ducked off to the side, careful not to get ambushed. "Careful, Weasley! There's breakable stuff in there." Now it was George's turn to laugh at her.

"Hermione, are you a witch or not?" She gave a warning wave of her wand, shaking her head gently.

"Watch it. I'm sure I can still kick your ass in a duel." George grinned over at her, fully aware that this could have easily happened. Hermione was extremely bright and extremely quick.

"You wouldn't hurt me." A grin twisted up onto the woman's face automatically, her eyebrows raising slightly.

"You're right." Though a little change never hurt anyone, did it? She was muttering the incantation and before George knew what was going on his hair had changed to a lovely shade of pink. "I couldn't hurt you."

Hermione was stunned to realize that as George got home that night, his hair was still a nice shade of pink. Apparently it wasn't coming off – and for that, Hermione was extremely proud. She'd pulled off a successful prank against a Weasley twin. Though she was fairly certain that she was going to pay for it.

"Does this ever wear off?" A grin swept up onto the dark haired witch's face as she gave a shrug of her shoulders.  
"Yeah, twenty four hours I think." A groan passed through his lips automatically as he fell back onto the couch - though he perked up at the smell of food. Men, Hermione thought with a grin, always thinking about their stomachs. "There's homemade ravioli on the table. I wouldn't let Fred eat without you." She grinned over at him, which only widened as George was smiling back at her.

"Weird, I feel like we're married." A laugh poured past Hermione's lips at this as she nodded back in agreement.

"It certainly is weird." With a turn of her head, she called for the eleven year old boy up the stairs and sat herself down. Fred was quick to find his way downstairs. He was a Weasley boy, through and through. Molly had been pleased to find out that he could eat more than Ron on his best day.

"Can we finally eat, then?" Hermione tossed a paper napkin at her son's head, rolling her eyes playfully.

"You act like I've been starving you, Frederick." George was quick to mutter out an 'oooh' as Hermione used his full name. Hermione swiftly moved her glare towards George.

"I know where you sleep, Weasley." Nothing could have prepared the girl for the smirk that formed onto his face. Oh, god. This wasn't going to be good. Carelessly, he leaned toward her until she could feel his breath on her ear. It reminded her of the many, many times that he had whispered things in her ear before – things that were not child appropriate. The sudden stirring of her loins made her cross her legs rather uncomfortably.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" It was going to be interesting living here.


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm sorry I haven't posted in so long. It's been a busy few weeks with school starting up again. I'm warning you now that this chapter is indeed mature. If you're not comfortable, skip it. **

**Since so many people have requested that I write something more to 'My Brother's Girl' I've decided I'm going to write a sort of sequel to it. I don't know when that's going to be out, but keep an eye out, yeah? Thank you guys again for supporting this story so much. It means the world to me.**

It was with great effort that Hermione forced herself to roll out of bed the next morning. The shock of actually living in another home was still there, of course. George's home was so much more extravagant than Hermione's little apartment. She couldn't say that she missed the place much – just the familiarity. This house was so much different. The kitchen had a completely different layout, there was five bedrooms, two bathrooms, a large living room, a dining room, and a small office that Hermione knew she would end up converting into a library. George didn't use it. He'd already commented that she could do whatever it was that she wanted with the room. If there was work to be done, George had usually done it in his bedroom – besides, who couldn't really work in a library?

The middle- aged witch swiftly made her way into the bathroom to get herself showered and made up for the day. She'd always liked showering as soon as she woke up – not because it made her more awake, more because of the fact that she liked the feeling of warm water spilling over her dirty skin. It was the main reason she never showered at night, just like George did, laying in one spot for eight hours didn't exactly keep you clean. Imagine the dust that built up within the mattress. She shook the thought from her head, stepping into the luke warm water and letting it run over her aching muscles. It was more calming than she would have liked to admit.

Hermione didn't linger in anything she did, however, and was swift to lather shampoo in her mess of curls. She idly thanked Merlin that Fred had gotten his father's hair – the lack of curls and the color. He truly was a spitting image of his father and, by default, the uncle he was named after. The only thing he'd gotten from his mother was the shape of his nose and his piercing brown eyes. She was perfectly okay with this. Climbing out of the shower, Hermione silently cursed herself. She'd forgotten to grab her clothes. Usually, the best option to that was 'accio' – however, there was no possible way she'd end up with the clothes she wanted in her hand. So, the young woman wrapped a towel around herself and practically ran to her room, only to see a half asleep George Weasley sitting on her bed. She slapped her hand to her chest, nearly dropping the towel in the process.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, Granger." Of course, the youngest Weasley twin was absolutely loving this. She shouldn't have been surprised.

"You frightened me." He was smirking, allowing his bright blue eyes to shamelessly run over her short body. Hermione knew fully well that she was fit enough – between her curves and her shapely bum, anyways.

"I think it's because you're naked." Hermione's glare could have scared a dementor, however, George only seemed to find this all the more amusing. "I mean, honestly Hermione, you shouldn't be so flustered. I've seen everything under that towel more times than I can count." Hermione was flabbergasted at his forwardness, a pink flush forcing itself up over her cheeks.

"Is there a reason you're in here, George?"

"No. I was just coming to say good morning, but you weren't in here." It was Sunday – the only day of the week that George didn't have to work. Hermione, however, had prior plans. A job interview with the minister of magic himself. "I'm certainly not put out by waiting to see you in that, though." Hermione was sure the look on her face was priceless.

"You're barbaric." The ginger man was at her side in an instant, pushing her gently against the door that had somehow managed to close itself. The bushy haired woman silently cursed the fact that she was living with a rather sneaky wizard.

"I think you like it." Hermione's heart had nearly beat out of her chest – he was utterly right, of course, she liked just about anything that had to do with him. He was irresistible to her.

"I think it's been a while since you've had a good shag." George raised an eyebrow in her direction, his fingertips pressing against the skin just underneath the fabric of the towel.

"I think you're the only person around worth shagging." The look on her face was enough to let him know just what she was thinking, and he'd nearly allowed his hand to slip up the towel, until she pushed him back gently.

"I think I have a job interview in an hour." With that being said, she side-stepped him and gave him a pointed look that obviously meant he should be leaving the room. George mentally cursed to himself before leaving the room, looking rather put out.

"Hermione Granger, it has been a while." The large office around the witch was so familiar – whether it was because Kingsley still hadn't changed the god awful blue color or because he still hadn't changed the pattern of the chairs sitting opposite of his side of the desk. It didn't matter. She'd spent two years running in and out of this office, doing whatever she was told to do, and keeping track of absolutely everything that the minister of magic would need to remember.

"I've missed you, minister." A scoff formed onto the bald man's face automatically.

"If you do not call me Kingsley, Hermione, I may get offended." A brilliant grin swept up onto the woman's lips as she nodded her head automatically.

"Forgive me, it has been quite some time."

"Tell me, why did you leave so many years ago?" She knew this question was coming – it was essential if she wanted her job back. Kingsley couldn't just give it back to her if he believed that she would be running out again. It was also obvious, however, that he was going to be needing her back. The blonde woman working the desk was completely unskilled. She'd noticed this just by the way she set up her desk – it was messier than any office desk should be, much less if you're the secretary to the minister of magic.

"I was pregnant. I've been raising my son for the past eleven years. I'm ready to come back to work." This seemed to mildly interest Kingsley. He nodded his head thoughtfully.

"Who is his father, if you mind my asking?"

"George Weasley."

When Hermione walked back into the house around three that afternoon, she was holding a large case of butterbeer and a mess of sandwiches from The Three Broomsticks. George glanced over as she came through the door, his eyebrows raising automatically. "Celebrating, are we?" Hermione only grinned at him, setting the bundle on top of the table and tossing her ex-lover a butterbeer. The firewhiskey could wait until Fred was asleep.

"I've got my job back." Kingsley had welcomed her back with open arms – and her first order of business had actually been to tell the woman at the desk that she was fired. It was a brilliant thing that Hermione had never really cared much about her co-workers. When you worked for the minister of magic, you got used to these kind of things. She was extremely career driven. "Plus, I really didn't want to cook." George just found himself laughing as he bounded into the room holding the mess of sandwiches, snatching one up with a wink.

"Fred has gone to my mum's for the night. She all but begged to have him over." Hermione raised an eyebrow but laughed softly and nodded a bit.

"That's fine – as long as I know he's safe and sound." George only grinned over at her.

"It's like you've never stayed at my parents' house before. Of course he'd safe and sound." The girl nodded in agreement, giving a casual wave of her wand once more as a bottle came flying towards the two of them, Hermione catching it with ease.

"Seeing as we don't have our little man tonight, I don't feel bad drinking something stronger than butterbeer." The smirk on George's face was all she needed to know that he agreed.

"Hermione, you're so pretty." Drunken slurs had been leaving the Weasley man's lips for over an hour now. It was going for nine at night – and the two adults were completely sloshed. They were going to be praising whomever invented hangover potions in the morning.

"Georgie, I –" She didn't finish the sentence before tripping over her own feet, tumbling into the man without any sense of how to catch herself. They fell back onto the couch with a huff, her laying perfectly still on top of him. It was a good thing – the extra weight of George Weasley on top of her wasn't something she would have liked to have unless he was rocking his hips against hers.

"So pretty." The words, once again, had escaped the man's lips before he tilted his head up and caught her lips against his. If Hermione had been sober, she would have pushed him away and lectured him about kissing her like that. She wasn't looking for a quick shag with him – not now. That wasn't the case though, because she wasn't sober and just kissing George had sent a stirring sensation to her loins. The bushy haired woman tangled her fingers into George's much shorter locks of hair, pressing herself against him without really thinking about it. He had no qualms about this, of course, he never had before. George wasn't moving slow, though, he'd already discarded Hermione's top and sent it somewhere on the other side of the room, his fingers groping over the fabric of her bra. It caused Hermione to moan out and grind her hips into his, never once breaking the contact of their heated kiss. It was different than the way they used to be together – when they were intimate all those years ago, they were looking for an escape from their pain. Here, now, they weren't looking for an escape. They were drunk and passionate. Whoever said that alcohol brings out your innermost desires, well, they couldn't have been more right.

Hermione had only broken the kiss to take George's shirt between her finger tips and force it over his head while he fumbled with her bra clasp, finally getting it off of her and tossing it away in the same direction both of their shirts had gone. He'd flipped the pair of them over now, hovering over her with an ease that had her seriously doubting he was as drunk as he let on. It didn't matter, though, because he had taken her nipple into his mouth with a vengeance. It was a sensation Hermione hadn't felt in over eleven years. "Merlin, George." Her fingers tangled into his hair once more, moaning out as the older man bucked his hips into hers.

Clothes were thrown in every which way until George was completely starkers and Hermione was left in just her knickers, the man's fingers rubbing over her most sensitive area with a smirk alighting his handsome face. "You're soaked, Mi." She only moaned in response, wiggling her hips in anticipation. He hadn't wasted anytime ridding her of the garment. His lips moved down her stomach with open mouthed kisses as two digits had slid inside the woman's core, making her moan out once more. One thing that was certain about George? He certainly knew how to pleasure a woman. He always had. Never once stopping the movement of his fingers, the man's tongue darted out to flick over her slick folds, making her cry out. This only encouraged his ministrations.

"I'm not going to last, oh god." Her hips bucked up slightly before the older man removed his fingers, replacing them with the length of his tongue. The feeling made the younger witch arch her back off of the couch. She was sure that the leather couch was going to have permanent marks in it from how hard her nails had been digging in. He kept lapsing at her juices until she was writhing underneath him, crying out his name in the way that she had so often done before tonight. George was perfectly okay with this. As he kissed back up her body and pressed a hard kiss to her lips, Hermione couldn't deny that the taste of herself on his lips had her loins twisting once again. He smirked down at her, but she had grasped his length in her hand and shakily forced him onto his back, climbing over him. He glanced down at her in anticipation, groaning out as her tongue teased the tip of his pride and joy.

"Jesus, 'Mione." She smirked out, taking all of him that she could fit into her mouth. Using her hands to cover the bit that she couldn't quite fit, Hermione was pretty sure that she hadn't lost her touch over the years. Not from the sounds that were escaping George's lips as he tangled his fingers into her mess of curls. She wondered idly if his fingers would get stuck – it wouldn't have been the first time. Though Hermione knew from experience that she could get him to let himself go just by a flick of her tongue, she didn't want that quite yet. Carefully, she removed her mouth from him and watched as he mourned the loss. He didn't have much mourning to do, however, as she positioned him below her and sank down onto him. A low grunt had escaped the boy's lips, though it had nearly been drowned out by Hermione's rather loud moan as she rocked her hips on top of him for a short moment. It had always been nice to tease him – but now she was actually forcing herself up and down on him. She had missed the feeling of him filling her up, the way his face looked when he took her in the way that she only ever let him. The witch kept up her movements until George was flipping them over once more, taking control in the way that he knew she loved. Hermione was a lot of things, but she was not dominate in the bedroom. His hips rocked into hers roughly, making the young girl tilt her head back automatically. "Oh my god, George!" It was no surprise when her nails began to dig down his back, leaving scratches that she would no doubt have to heal for him once she was sober again.

Breathy moans filled her ears from the ginger man above her as he rocked his hips even harder, finding himself reaching his own peak and so obviously wanting her to reach it with him. "You're so sexy, Hermione." His thumb found the small bundle of nerves between her legs as he moved between her, rubbing circles into it. Hermione shook beneath him, reaching her high just before he let himself go into her. Equally loud moans pushed past both of their lips before George was standing up and lifting the woman into his arms, carrying her up the stairs to the master bedroom and tossing her onto the bed. It was going to be a long night for the two of them.


	9. Chapter 9

Hermione groaned as she woke up to a bright light shining through the window. Apparently she'd forgotten to close the curtains. It wasn't until she realized that there was someone beside her that she noticed the pounding in her head. Of course, they'd gotten drunk last night. She and George, that is. Why hadn't she been more reasonable? Hermione had never been a heavy drinker and was therefore the epitome of a lightweight.

However, you could only imagine her surprise when she noticed the fact that she had absolutely nothing on under this blanket. "Oh, for the love of Merlin." A groan slipped passed her lips the girl shoved George's shoulder, getting out of the bed to find her clothes and pull them up over her very naked body – and it would have worked beautifully, had her clothes been in his bedroom instead of down the stairs where the floo could activate any moment. She went through the boy's drawers automatically, pulling out a shirt and slipping it over her body incase Fred was already home. He wasn't, she realized thankfully, as she walked out of the room. George was just as hard to wake up as she remembered.

It was with fresh clothes and a hangover potion in her system that the thirty year old forced herself to take a shower, washing away the remembrance of George's fingers trailing over her petite form. That didn't work, of course, she could still feel the way his fingers traced over her hip bone, how much she had missed the way his lips pressed over her skin. She groaned out loud and shook her head, turning off the shower water and climbing out. It was with a start that she realized she wasn't alone. George looked up at her through tired eyes, his hair sticking up in every which way. He was adorable. There was no doubting it. "We need to talk, I think." Hermione shook her head softly, not bothering to pay attention to his naked form as she hurriedly tried to dress her own. "Hermione, for god's sake, I've seen you naked dozens of times. Stop." He gripped her arm, pulling her back towards him. She wasn't pleased.

"I don't want to talk about it, George." The fierce look on his face was something Hermione hadn't been expecting. Of course, she should have – she'd loved this man once. She used to know everything about him.

"You don't get it, do you? You're the mother of my child, you've moved into my house, and you still don't understand. What can I do to get it through your damned head?" Pure confusion swept over the young woman's face. What in the bloody hell was he going on about? George groaned out in frustration. "Hermione, I've been in love with you for thirteen years. Hell, I might have been in love with you when Fred was dating you but I never thought about it – you were out of the question then. Fred loved you more than anything and I finally understand why –" George was cut short as a loud yell came out from downstairs, the yell of a young boy.

"Mom, George, I'm home!" Hermione was frozen in her place, only half dressed and looking at her son's father like she'd never seen him before. He was in love with her? When had this happened? Thirteen years? Did that mean he'd never gotten over her? Her mind was swarmed with questions as George stared back at her. Finally, the woman forced herself to pull on her shorts.

"We'll talk about this later." And then she was gone, going down the stairs to give her son a kiss on the head and make him breakfast. Well, if Molly hadn't already stuffed him full.

"Mom, do I have to go to bed?" Hermione grinned down at the young man with a raise of her eyebrows as if this was an obvious answer.

"Fred, you leave for Hogwarts in two days. You need to be on a proper sleeping schedule." She gave a ruffle of his red hair, making him glower automatically and swat her hand away in the way that he always had.

"Okay, okay. Goodnight mom." Hermione grinned at him, kissing his now messy hair.

"Go say goodnight to your father." He nodded his head sullenly, still not pleased about being forced to sleep at nine thirty at night. Back when he went to school with the muggles, like she'd wanted him to, she'd let him stay up until he fell asleep. That's just how she was – what was the point of making him sleep so early? This wasn't muggle school, though, and Fred would need to be on his toes for Hogwarts.

By the time Fred was back in his room, it was going for ten. George had taken pity on the young boy and told him he could stay up for a bit longer – assuming Hermione didn't see him. She had, though, and she'd crossed her arms over her chest and, trying out her Umbridge imitation, cleared her throat. Fred had nearly jumped out of his skin and ran past her to his own bedroom, calling out his goodnights as he did so. Hermione shook his head. "I told him to go to bed half an hour ago, George." The ginger haired man raised an eyebrow at Hermione, shaking his head softly.

"It's only ten o'clock, Mi. Calm down." She huffed automatically and plopped herself down next to him without thinking about it.

"I know Hogwarts isn't a big deal to people that grow up around here – but Fred has never been anyplace more magical than Diagon Alley. Hogwarts is going to be a big deal for him – he needs to be rested." George gave a wave of his hand automatically, falling back next to her and raising an eyebrow for a moment, pushing aside the paperwork that he'd been doing.

"He'll be just fine, love. He's not a muggle-born or anything. He's known about magic his whole life." Hermione scoffed at the muggle-born comment, but knew fully well that he was right. She had nearly passed out when a tall man in robes showed up on her door step to tell her that she was a witch. Her parents had nearly tossed him out of the house for being so barbaric.

"That's not the point, George." The thirty two year old man shook his head and gave a wave of his wand, the bedroom door closing and a silencing spell being set on the room. She raised an eyebrow in his direction.

"We need to talk. Not about Fred, for once, but Hermione.." The younger woman pursed her lips automatically. She knew what he was talking about. He'd told her that he loves her – and she'd run away from him. After years of loving him more than anything, aside from Fred, she had no idea what to do here. Hermione had been hurt before, so badly that she'd literally been on the verge of suicide, and what would she do if she lost George now?

"I know, George." Allowing her teeth to nip down on her lower lip for a moment, the bushy haired woman turned to look at the man she had slept with the night before. In this very bed, nonetheless. "I don't know what you want me to say." George looked at her like she had hit her head on something very hard.

"Hermione, I told you that I love you. I've loved you for thirteen damn years. You were off raising our son by yourself, and I was here – wondering why you had left me. Yet, you don't know what to say?" The witch groaned automatically.

"I told myself a long time ago that I wasn't getting involved with anyone again. I meant it – relationships terrify me, George. When we were together, meaningless sex at first, it made me feel so much better. Fred was gone, but you filled the void. Now, here we are thirteen years later and I love you as much as I loved your twin brother, but I'm afraid. Okay? I'm not the same person I was back then. I'm not fearless – I'm broken and I can't be fixed." This wasn't good enough for the Weasley man, apparently, because he'd grabbed her face and pressed a fierce kiss to her lips. She didn't bother pushing him away – being so close to him, it felt far to right. Lips against lips, teeth knocking together, and noses bumping. Hermione and George weren't the most graceful kissers in the world, that's for sure. When he pulled back and smirked at her, she swatted at his chest.

"You said you love me." And that was all it took for Hermione to pull him back to her, meshing their lips together once more.

"It was a mistake, George."

**I wasn't originally going to put the last sentence there, but I figured that I need to leave you guys with a cliffhanger. Try not to throw frozen foods at me. Again, thank you guys so much on all the support you've given me. I only have another chapter of this written at the moment, so I'm going to try and write some more before posting. Hopefully I'll be updating real soon.**

**Until then, yeah?**

**Jess.**


	10. Chapter 10

"It was a mistake, George." Hermione's arms wrapped around her petite form carefully as she was once more pulling on her clothes, shaking her head at how barbaric she had been just minutes before. Why was it that she kept sleeping with George Weasley? No matter what happened between the two of them, Hermione was always so willing to jump into bed with him. Even with their son just down the hall from them. This wasn't the kind of person she was anymore, no, she had grown up so much. What was it about him that kept her coming around for more? It surely couldn't have been the fact that she still loved him. It took her nearly a year and a half before she'd agreed to share a bed with Fred Weasley. Then again, she had been a whole lot more than innocent back then. Now, well, she wasn't all that innocent with an eleven year old son running around.

"What are you going on about?" George looked rather put out, as if this observation had severely pained him. Was it really that much of a surprise?

"It was an in the moment thing, okay? It can't happen again." Skin on skin, lips on lips, teeth pressing in all the right places.. God, George Weasley had always had such an effect on her. She couldn't let this go on.

"Are you fucking serious, Hermione? You're kidding me right now, right? I-You said you loved me!" She glanced back at him for a moment, unable to keep the sad smile off of her face.

"I do love you. That doesn't mean I want to be with you, George. You missed that chance about twelve years ago." She had made it so unbelievably obvious that she'd loved him back in the day – back when they'd turned to one another for comfort in the best way that they knew how. It physically hurt her to see the look on his face. Jesus, he looked so much like Fred – just like the man who had never once hurt her before. Well, up until he was killed. That had hurt her more than child birth, and let me tell you, that isn't exactly a cake walk.

"I was engaged twelve years ago!" It was pretty unbelievable, the young woman realized, that George didn't seem to see this coming. How could he not?

"And I was in love with you. Goodnight, George." By now, Hermione was dressed and walking out of the door, leaving a flabbergasted Weasley man behind her.

There was no helping the tears that poured down Hermione's face as she watched her baby boy load up his trunk into her car, one of the few muggle things she had actually forced herself to learn how to operate. There was nothing she could have done about it, really, when you're living in a place filled with regular people, well, it was needed. "Have you got everything?" Fred glanced up at his mother, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly as he did so.

"Mom, are you okay?" Hermione wiped at her eyes automatically before nodding her head, scooping up her little boy into her arms and holding him to her chest tightly.

"Yes. I'm just going to miss you, baby." It was a rare occasion that the thirty year old woman called her son 'baby'. That was a pet name saved for when she was feeling especially affectionate towards her only child.

"I'm going to miss you too." Hermione nodded her head softly and pressed her lips to his fiery hair, forcing herself to take him out of her arms.

"Okay, into the car with you. You've got a train to catch. The Hogwarts Express waits for no one."

"Not even a Weasley." A third voice chimed out, the voice of a very cheery George Weasley. Hermione knew better than to think he was happy today, though. She'd rejected him the day before, and now Fred was leaving – along with Allison and Rebecca. He was going to be anything but happy this evening.

"You're coming with us?" George scoffed at his youngest child, giving a playful roll of his bright eyes.

"You can't think I'd let your mother drive, now can you?" Fred was laughing automatically as Hermione swatted at her ex-lover, rolling her dark colored eyes with obvious annoyance.

"Yes George, because you so obviously know how to drive." Without hesitation, the young woman slipped into the driver's seat and allowed her son to climb into the back, George climbing in next to her. That was going to be distracting.

It turned out, however, that not much could distract Hermione from driving when her little boy was in the car. His safety came first – even though she could practically feel the body heat radiating from George just inches away from her.

"You be good, do you understand me? Neville will tell me if you're misbehaving." Hermione was lecturing Fred effortlessly, Allison and Rebecca being forced to listen to the words as well. George decided that whatever Hermione was telling Fred had to be good enough for the girls as well.

"Who's Neville?" Allison giggled at her younger brother.

"Professor Longbottom. He's friends with all our parents, I think. Don't call him Neville – he doesn't like it." Hermione giggled at this. Apparently, the girls had tried it out. That was something that this young girl believed entirely – they were, after all, Weasley twins.

"Yes. He's the Herbology teacher. I'm sure he'll love you. Now you've got to get going before you miss the train." The young woman was once again pulling her son in for a hug, kissing his head automatically. "I love you. Write me at least once a week. Don't get into trouble – study hard. If you need anything, write home and I'll try to get it to you, okay? I'll be sending you money, don't worry about that." And then he was out of her grip and by some unknown force, she was pulling his sisters in for a short hug as well. "You all be good. Look after him." The twins agreed whole heartedly, kissing the older woman's cheek before running for their parents. George was watching on with obvious admiration. He loved Hermione. There was no doubt about it – Hermione knew that he loved her. He had always loved her.

Fred glanced back at his mother. "I love you mom. I'll see you for Christmas." He was hugging her once more before sprinting towards his father. Hermione watched with interest as George had literally swept him off of his feet, holding him tightly to his chest and murmuring words into his ear. There was no doubt in the witch's mind that he was telling him to help his sister's with as many pranks as humanly possible. She'd slap him for it later. Right now, she was watching the people she loved most in the world embrace one another. It reminded her of the brotherly bond that George had shared with his twin – except now, he was a father. It was so much different. The longing for things to go back to normal would never go away now.

"Ginny, she's beautiful." Elizabeth Molly Potter had officially joined the Weasley / Potter family. Ginny had finally popped – and after ten hours of labor, she and Harry had a beautiful baby girl. It was odd for Hermione to be here for things like this. She'd missed so much in the past eleven years, and now she was finally making up for it.

"She looks like her mummy, that's for sure." Harry was grinning at his wife and newborn daughter. Apparently, red hair was something that only the women of that household inherited. Both boys had their father's strikingly dark hair while both of the girls embraced their mothers natural red locks. Elizabeth had been born with nearly a full head of hair. Molly Weasley was pleased.

Hermione giggled at her best mate. It had been nearly fifteen years now that these lovebirds had been together and they were still just as in love. It was refreshing, to be honest. She and George weren't nearly that in love. Were they? It didn't matter. She wasn't going to give into the temptation that came with thinking about him. That man was honestly just one big temptation. "Are you insinuating that you're not beautiful, Harry?" George's voice rang out. Speak of the devil.

"I'm strikingly handsome, not beautiful."

"I think you've got yourself confused with Ron." Hermione piped up, making Ginny burst out laughing despite the pain that was surely spreading through her lower body. Child birth was no mean feat – most pain killing potions couldn't get rid of the discomfort that it caused. George made a face at his ex-lover. Had she a thing for Ron now? Surely not. Would she go for her only son's uncle? Hermione just rolled her eyes at him. She'd gotten over her slight crush on the second youngest Weasley in her third year at Hogwarts. Fred had made sure of that.

Harry just laughed at his best mate, shaking his head in her direction. Not even a jab at his manliness could take away how happy he was right now – another daughter, it was wonderful. Hermione was happy for him. Then again, she suddenly had a longing for her own baby – the one who had been taken away to Hogwarts just days before. Things just weren't the same without him.

"Miss. Granger, there is someone here to see you." Hermione found herself cringing at the sound of a perky voice interrupting her. Didn't people understand that she was busy at work? At the moment, she was finalizing a speech that Kingsley was to be making in just two days time.

"Send them in, Darla." The spunky brunette nodded her head effortlessly, smacking on a piece of gum. It was kind of necessary that Hermione had her own assistant – she had to do just as much as the minister of magic himself in order insure that he looked good in all of his public appearances. Plus, Hermione was the one doing most of the work. She wanted to take Kingsley's place one of these days.

Once the bushy haired witch forced herself to look up, she was staring at George Weasley's lanky form in front of her. He was watching her curiously, obviously inquiring just how hard she was working. He wasn't used to the paper work part of things down at the joke shop. He had people to do that sort of thing for him. "Did you need something, George?" The ginger nodded his head automatically, glancing at her for a second more before shrugging his shoulders.

"Yes. I'm not going to be home until late – I've got a date tonight." Hermione froze automatically. He stopped by in order to tell her that he has a date. A date with a woman. A date with someone who was probably very pretty and much more fun that Hermione. A date with someone who wouldn't deny him in every which way that he turned.

"Who are you going out with?" George raised an eyebrow with her, already half way to the door. He had apparently liked her reaction.

"What are you, my mother?" And then he was gone, walking through the door and not bothering to look back at the broken girl he'd left behind him.


	11. Chapter 11

**This isn't one of my better chapters, I will admit. I haven't proof read it yet - I've literally only just wrote it. I felt like you guys needed an update, yeah? Things are a bit disorientating at the moment. I know. I want to thank you guys for sticking with me through this! I don't think it's going to be much longer. I haven't decided yet. Let me know what you think!**

Things were awkward. There was absolutely no doubt about it. George was always gone, out with his new girlfriend, and Hermione was always at The Burrow to escape the silence. Fred was away at Hogwarts now – at least, being with the rest of the Weasley clan, Hermione was able to see Ron and Harry more often than not. Ron was married to Luna now with two young children running around, both had inherited the Weasley red hair, much to Luna's disappointment. She had always loved her own blonde locks.

It was nice to be around her friends again. It was almost as if they were back at Hogwarts – except now, Ginny and Harry had four kids, two of which were still home as they're not of age for Hogwarts, and Ron also had two children not of age for Hogwarts. It was strange. Never in a million years did Hermione think things would end up like this – she believed that she would have been married to Fred by now, three children would be under her wing, and they'd be here together watching their family members with amused expressions. It was time, however, to move on. She couldn't keep dwelling on the man she'd once loved. Now she loved George – a person very much like Fred, but someone who was certainly his own person.

What was the problem with that? Oh, right. George was currently dating Cho Chang. Hermione was a lot of things – she had even once been a homewrecker, but she wouldn't do that again. She'd hurt Katie in the process of taking George away, even when she hadn't meant too, why would she do that to someone she had once considered a friend? A giggle pushed past Ron's youngest daughters lips as she glanced up at Hermione, obviously noticing how completely gone she seemed. Hermione gave the child a kind smile. "Alright, you lot. I think it's time I head home." Carefully, the young woman stood to her feet and wrapped her arms around Molly Weasley and then Arthur, as well. "Thank you for dinner." She grinned over at the older couple and gave Harry a swat on the back of the head a goodbye, Ron narrowly avoided her hand as he was to receive the same treatment.

"Hermione, come over for dinner tomorrow at ours, yeah?" Ginny glanced up at the woman she considered to be her sister, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

"Of course, Gin. Would you like me to bring your nimrod of a brother with me, as well?" Molly shook her head in exasperation as she busied herself with her grandchildren, obviously catching the last bit of the question. Hermione grinned.

"If you can keep his lips off of Chang." Ginny, being Ginny, still wasn't fond of the fact that her husband had a short relationship with the lovely young woman. Hermione knew exactly how she felt.

"I'll work on it." With that, she gave the red headed woman a short hug and gave a twist of her wand, the sinking feeling of apparition racing through her body.

"You're home late." George jumped, his bright eyes scanning the rather dark living room to find a certain bushy haired woman sitting on the couch. His fingers ran through his hair. Things just weren't going his way lately, it seemed. He was dating Cho in order to make a certain woman living in his house jealous and it just wasn't working. Maybe she was just too smart for him. It was extremely possible.

"Yeah, Cho wanted me to hang out for a bit." He gave a shrug of his shoulders, as if he hadn't just been thrusting his hips into another woman, though he most certainly had been. What? If he had to date the woman, he might as well get some enjoyment out of it. Hermione's face remained calm – though she was practically screaming on the inside. The hurt rushed through her like a tidal wave.

"Charming. Your sister invited us both to dinner tomorrow night – are you going to blow her off again?" Her eyebrows rose. George knew better than to say yes. Things wouldn't have ended well if he did – he'd just have to cancel on Cho. It wasn't that big of a deal.

"Of course not. I'll be there." Hermione nodded stiffly, her teeth grazing over her lower lip for a moment before she hurried on up the stairs. She really had to figure something out.

No one appreciates being woken up with a churning stomach, especially when it's nearly three in the morning. Hermione groaned and stood to her feet, practically running towards the bathroom and dropping to her knees in front of the toilet. She emptied out the lovely dinner that Mrs. Weasley had prepared just a few hours ago – it wasn't nearly as good on the way out. A groan pushed passed her lips automatically, flushing the loo and laying her cheek against the tile floor. Well, apparently she wouldn't be going to Harry and Ginny's flat after all.

Pushing herself up to her feet, Hermione padded her way to the sink and found her tooth brush, rinsing out every bit of vile from her mouth. Had she caught a bug? It appeared so.

"Hermione, you okay?" A flash of red caught the brown haired girl's eyes, making her jump automatically. George Weasley certainly had a knack for scaring the life out of her. She spit the tooth paste into the sink before nodding her head effortlessly.

"Yes. I think I've caught a bug, is all." George glanced over her automatically, his eyebrows raising ever so slightly.

"You look fine though." That was true. Over their two year affair, George had taken care of her more than once – they were friends, they'd always been friends. Of course he'd take care of her. When she got sick, Hermione was completely disgusting. There was no other way to put it. Her eyes got heavy, her skin was deathly pale, and she was almost always curled up in her with a good book.

"It must have just hit." That had to be the explanation, right? Carefully, the thirty year old witch went over a few personal issues in her head. It had been five weeks since her last period – hadn't it? She froze. "Get out of here. I think I'm going to be sick." She pushed George out of the room swiftly, shutting the door and locking the door. Yes, she knew George could easily get in the room – but she didn't think he would. Even when they were together, she'd never liked him seeing her in this state. He'd always respected that. She kneeled under the sink, digging through the mess of things she'd stuffed in there nearly two months ago. It was weird, thinking that she'd been living here for so long. Something caught her eye and she snatched it up. God, she never thought she'd have to use it. Not after Fred. Still though, she'd always kept a spare just in case. It was a good thing.

Hermione took the muggle contraption in her hand and made a quick work of using it, her eyes snapping shut as she did so. This couldn't happen again.

Five minutes passed. That was all the pregnancy test had needed, apparently, and it held her very worst fear. A little pink smiley face looked up at her. Shit.

Hermione Granger was pregnant with George Weasley's baby. Again.


	12. Chapter 12

**I hope you guys are enjoying this, yeah? Let me know what you think!**

This wasn't good. God, this wasn't good. Why was it that whenever George found himself with someone that he really cared about, Hermione was always around to mess it up? Dinner at the Potter house had been more than awkward, that's for damn sure. It was especially awkward when Ginny pulled Hermione aside to speak with her.

"Hermione, what in the bloody hell is going on?" The only thing even slightly scarier than Ginny Potter yelling was her whispering in a rather harsh tone. She'd been watching her all night – watching how careful she was, how quickly she'd passed up on a bit of firewhiskey. Ginny wasn't stupid – Hermione knew that Ginny wasn't going to buy anything but the truth, and Hermione wasn't going to be able to leave without telling the truth first. There was no use in denying it. Besides, she could really use a friend.

Carefully, Hermione let her dark eyes roam around the small room to make sure no one could hear her aside from Ginny. "I'm pregnant." It seemed that Ginny had been expecting it. A loud sigh pushed past her lips.

"Is it George's?"

"Yes." Well, at least all of her children would have the same father – oh god, how was she going to tell Fred? She hadn't even thought of that. He'd come home for Christmas break and she'd be the size of half a house. Perhaps not, actually, she'd only be around five months pregnant then. That didn't mean she couldn't not tell him. Maybe he would be excited about the possibility of another sister or even a brother. Hermione wasn't nearly as excited.

Apparently, however, George decided then was a good time to leave as he had practically waltzed into the room and insisted that they go now. There was something about the fact that Cho wanted to see him. Why did Hermione have to leave as well? She wasn't exactly sure.

Now, however, the thirty year old was laying back on her bed and trying to no avail to fall asleep. It just wasn't happening. She had to tell George – there was no running away this time. She'd made that mistake once and she knew for a fact that no one would forgive her for this if she ran now.

"Hey, you awake?" George poked his head into room, his wand lit in order to check on the middle aged witch. Hermione sat up carefully and nodded her head.

"Yep, what's up?" He sighed softly and plopped down next to her without even thinking about it, laying back on the opposite side of her bed.

"I think I'm going to break up with Cho." Hermione raised an eyebrow at him in wonder.

"I thought you two were getting on well?" He shrugged his shoulders without meeting her eye. She didn't think much of it, to be honest.

"We were, are actually. She's just not cutting it." It still surprised Hermione how mature George had become over the years – it was rare to even see him joke lately. It really broke her heart to see how much everything had been affecting him. It was needed, however, he had three children now. Another one on the way, though he had no idea about that.

"What made you realize that?" Hermione raised an eyebrow in his direction. He only looked at her for a moment.

"I only dated her because I wanted to make you jealous." One secret down. That was the only thing that passed through Hermione's mind. He told her the truth, wasn't it only fair that she did the same? A loud sigh pushed past her lips.

"It worked." She glanced at him for a moment. Okay, so maybe that wasn't exactly what she'd wanted to say – but he didn't need to know right then, did he? He grinned over at her automatically, it was a triumphant grin.

"Thank god. I thought I'd been snogging that woman for nothing. She's terrible at it." Hermione giggled automatically, smirking over at him with a slight raise of her eyebrow. He really was something else.

Being with George again was like nothing Hermione could have predicted. He was ecstatic, and frankly, so was she. Hermione and George had never really had a shot had a real relationship before. They'd always just looked forward to the mindless sex without consequence. She'd been with Dean at the time, just as he'd been with Katie. Things hadn't been right then. Now, however, everything was just fine. They were happy together. She was pregnant. Not that he knew that, of course.

"Hermione, love, it's time to wake up." Kisses were placed on the top of the young woman's lips as the sound of a very husky voice woke her up. It was pretty obvious to her that George must have just woken up himself – and there was nothing sexier than this man's morning voice, that's for damn sure.

"Why don't you sound like that all the time?" Hermione cracked one eye open to glance up at an amused George Weasley. He was going to enjoy teasing her with that, she was sure of it. Without even thinking about it, George leaned his head down to press his lips far too close to her ear, his voice even lower than usual.

"What, like this?" Merlin, she'd nearly forgotten how easy pregnancy hormones were messed with – she was going to have a hell of a time keeping herself in check with this man around. "Does my voice turn you on, baby?" Hermione bit her lip for a moment before pulling her head back to look at him, her eyebrows raising ever so gently.

"Are you always this horny?" With that, George had pinned her arms carefully about her head and slipped his legs on each side of her.

"Yes." Hermione giggled at him, unable to help herself. George Weasley was nothing short of a tool.

It seemed that her giggle was short lived, however, as George pressed his lips to hers almost instantly. There wasn't much that Hermione loved as much as she loved kissing this man. He smirked as he carefully pressed his hips against hers, letting her know exactly what she was doing to him through the fabric of their pajama bottoms. She had to bite back a moan. Hermione had very nearly allowed her hand to begin to take off his pajama bottoms before she forced herself to pull away from him, chewing on her lower lip for a moment. George mourned the loss of contact. "You're the epitome of tease." Usually, that would have made the middle aged woman giggle. Instead, she bit her lip and glanced up at him for a moment.

"I have to tell you something. It's a bit important." Okay, so maybe it was more than a bit important – did it really matter how she labeled it? George regarded her curiously for a moment before nodding his head and sitting up straight. They were currently in the room that was deemed his – something Hermione was sure would be theirs at some point soon. He'd never let her sleep in her own bed as long as they were together.

"Okay. What's up?" He crossed his legs like a child, making the woman giggle to herself for a moment. He'd be such a good dad to their children – she had no doubt in her mind. He was already fantastic with Fred.

Hermione took a deep breath and let it pass through her lips for a moment before allowing her fingers to tangle into her mess of hair. "I um, I'm pregnant." George was silent for a moment; it was almost as if he wasn't moving.

"Y-You are? Is it mine?" A scoff slipped up onto the woman's lips automatically.

"No, it's Ron's. We're madly in love and he's going to leave behind his entire family for me. Of course it's yours, you nimrod!" George was sporting a grin automatically, seemingly unphased.

"You're vicious when you're hormonal." Hermione glared at the bright haired boy, finding the closest thing to her in order to throw at it at his head. It happened to be a very full tissue box on the nightstand that he dodged far too easily, making the bushy haired woman scoff in distaste. "That wasn't very nice, my dear." And then she was in his arms, him making sure she couldn't throw something else at him, and his lips were on hers. It was a feeling she would never completely get over.

"Can I _please_ get you out of your knickers now?"


	13. Chapter 13

Time was flying by. Then again, maybe that was just because things were running rather smooth around here. That wasn't something that Hermione was exactly used too. Usually, Fred would be running around and she'd have to clean up behind him while making sure he didn't blow up the counter. Selfishly, the witch relished in the fact that her son wouldn't be allowed to use magic at home now that he's being trained. It was a beautiful thing. There was no need for his wand to lay around – though, of course, she'd never let him leave the house without it. It was time for the Christmas holidays. George was more than happy to be seeing as three of his children again – seeing as the only one currently around was still very much inside of Hermione's womb. He didn't have much fun with that.

No one, however, was as excited about these kids coming home than Hermione. Maybe it was the added hormones that took over her body but she was so excited to see her little boy. It'd been four months since she'd set eyes on him. Now Hermione knew exactly how her mother felt when she left for school. Now she understood why she'd cried.

"Hermione, dear, bouncing on your heel isn't going to make the train get here faster." George's bright eyes shined in amusement at his girlfriend's antics. Things were going well between them; he was more than happy with their relationship. Though there was absolutely no doubt that they fought more than any other one of the couples in his family – including Ron and Luna, who fought like it was their permanent job. Most of that was based on the fact that she couldn't come to deal with reality, however. Ron was a realist – Luna, well, Luna was Luna.

"They're already two minutes late, George. The Hogwarts Express is never late." George shook his head in exasperation. This woman was completely bonkers – and well, this certain Weasley son was completely bonkers for her. He made no mistake in letting her know it either. Whenever the pair were together, which was often seeing as they lived together, he was never shy on how he felt about her. He'd murmur into her ear, tickle her sides, pull her close. Whatever it was that brought her closer to him. Hermione loved every second of it despite her playful protests.

"Calm down. They'll be here soon enough." Carefully, he pressed his lips against her temple. It seemed that at that moment the train came roaring in – every inch of it still perfectly attached. Hermione wasn't slightly put off by the fact that she'd been worrying, however, as she carefully stepped out of George's embrace and practically threw herself at the ginger boy in desperate need of a haircut as he stepped off of the train. He laughed at his mother's antics.

"Mom, you can let go now." Fred had his arms around his mother's neck, only slightly surprised that she didn't pick him up and spin him. Hermione knew that if she wasn't pregnant she would have been attempting it. Not that she'd really looked pregnant, however. She shook her head gently and pulled back from the hug, kissing all over the top of his head and his forehead.

"I missed you Freddie." The eleven year old grinned up at her bashfully, only pulling away from the older woman when his sights were set on his father. That was perfectly okay with Hermione though – George had missed him too.

"Dad!" George swept up the young boy in his arms and swung him around without the slightest bit of hesitation. He didn't have a baby to worry about – plus, he was much stronger than Hermione.

"Hey, little man." He'd only just put the boy down as two flashes of brown had practically tackled him to the ground – though he managed to catch himself before it actually happened. The newest generation of Weasley twins.

"Daddy!" Hermione grinned as Fred watched his sisters in admiration – it was pretty obvious that he loved them. She was more than glad that he wasn't alone in that school – not like she had been for the first month of Hogwarts. That had been the worst month of her entire school career. Even during the war she'd had someone to lean on.

"Munchkins." George hugged his daughters, an amused Lee standing a few feet away from the mess of them. Katie was working, apparently. She worked at the Ministry of Magic – just like Hermione, except Hermione worked directly for the minister. It was surprising she'd managed to get the afternoon off. Then again, Kingsley was a dear friend. He would have let her leave to see her only son.

The twins giggled, making Hermione smile as she once again pulled her son close to her, setting her head on top of his. He was growing like a weed. It was likely that this boy was going to be as tall as his Uncle Ron. That was a scary thought.

"Come on, you guys. Let's get back to the house." Hermione paused to look at Lee, her eyebrows raising slightly. "You're coming right? I'm sure the girls won't mind." She giggled softly. It was pretty obvious that those two twelve year olds adored their father – then again, they also adored Lee. The dark skinned man only nodded his head with a grin – of course he was coming by with the girls.

"You're pregnant?!" Fred's incredulous voice rang out before anyone had even thought about his reaction. Hermione simply nodded her head, looking at her little boy for some sort of sign that this was okay. He'd never been one of those kids that wants a sibling. He had two sisters now anyways. George was nearly sweating in anticipation. Hermione felt his pain.

"Yep, she is champ." The older Weasley's voice rang out. George had already told the girls, who seemed happy enough, and now they were alone with their only son. It was nerve wracking. Fred was the only opinion she honestly cared about.

The young boy paused for only a moment before a grin swept up on his face. "I won't be the youngest anymore!"

Christmas morning came by far too quickly for Hermione's taste. She'd been enjoying the extra noise that came with having Fred home for the holiday season – plus, the twins were always running around here while their mother was at work. Kingsley had swatted away her protests of not being sent into work. She'd be back on the first of January after seeing Fred off. There was no way that she was ready to see him go back to Hogwarts. Things were going to be awfully lonely around here – well, unless you counted George. He was a bit of a handful.

"Mom, dad, it's Christmas!" Hermione groaned into the pillow that her face had been positioned directly into, mumbling something that sounded discreetly like 'five more minutes mom'. George, however, was up and tugging on a shirt to cover the chilly air. He never did sleep with a shirt on, not that Hermione was complaining.

"Rise and shine, pumpkin slice." This was George murmuring in the woman's ear, and she involuntarily felt shivers run down her spine. Dammit.

"No." He chuckled softly, only hesitating for a moment before sweeping up the pregnant woman in his arms.

"Fred will be awfully disappointed if you make him wait." Hermione peaked up her dark eyes in order to glare daggers at the handsome man currently clutching onto her. What? She had to show her distaste for his actions somehow.

"I hate you."

"I love you too, buttercup."

Fred was already seated on the couch, anxiously bouncing one knee up and down as George sat his girlfriend down next to their only son. The young boy grinned at his obviously exhausted mother.

"Hasn't anyone ever heard that a pregnant woman needs her sleep?" She rested her head on the arm of the couch, listening to George's chuckles. He thought she was being ridiculous – and he was right, she was.

"Come on mom, wake up a little. It's Christmas!" Hermione simply shot her son a look as if to say 'shut your face, kid'.

"I'm up, I'm up." She motioned for George to pass out the presents. Well, Fred's presents. He had a pretty good load this year. Before now, Hermione had never really been able to give him much. She'd been trying to raise him single handedly. Things just weren't as easy then – but now she had George to help, plus she had a much better job. Everything was okay now. Fred deserved a good Christmas. Though, the first thing he'd opened was his very own Weasley Jumper. Hermione grinned at the sight of it. Mrs. Weasley had outdone herself once again. Then again, when didn't she?

"Your grandma loves making those sweaters." Fred grinned at the thought. It seemed that she'd taken to giving him a burgundy colored one – surely she was running out of colors by now. There were so many people to make sweaters for – that old woman had to be working her fingers to the bone.

Over all, it was a bloody good morning. Unless you counted the fact that Hermione was half-asleep the entire time. Fred had loads of presents from absolutely everybody – jokes from his father, school supplies from his mother, toys from both his parents, sweaters and sweets from his grandparents, and sweets from just about everyone else in the family. The poor kid was going to have one hell of a tooth ache, plus her parents were going to have some sort of a mental breakdown if they found out. Dentists didn't take well to sugar.

"Alright 'Mione, go on and get dressed." Hermione lifted her head for a moment to look at George with a raised eyebrow.

"Why am I getting dressed?" It was going for seven at night – hadn't they done all of their running around already? They were supposed to be getting ready to exchange their own gifts to one another. She'd gotten him season passes to go on and see any Quidditch team of his choosing. That hadn't been exactly cheap – but she couldn't, for the life of her, remember his favorite team. It was probably because she'd gotten used to drowning out any bit of Quidditch talk over the years. Honestly, that sport had gotten old fast.

"We're going out, my love." George winked at her, making the younger woman giggle at him. He was honestly too much.

"What am I supposed to be wearing, exactly?" It would've been nice to have a heads up – but hey, she wasn't going to complain.

"A dress." With that, George walked away from her in order to send his youngest off to his grandparents – you'd think that Molly would get sick of always having kids at the house. It seemed just the opposite though; she really did love her family. Hermione knew the feeling.

Shaking her head softly, the curly haired witch carefully made her way up the stairs and into the bedroom. It was a bloody good thing she'd showered a little less than an hour ago. Rummaging through her closet, Hermione snatched up a little red dress and slipped it on over her head after discarding the rest of the unwanted clothes. It was a wonder it still fit around her pregnant stomach – but really, she wasn't all that surprised. She hadn't gotten very big with Fred until she was seven months in. Slipping on a pair of black pumps and spreading a bit of makeup across her lovely face, Hermione knew that she was good to go. There wasn't much she was ever able to do with that rat's nest that she called hair.

"You look lovely." Hermione jumped.

"Merlin, George. You scared me." How was it that he managed to get dressed without even stepping foot into their bedroom? Oh, right. He was a wizard. She shouldn't have been surprised. He simply shot her a smirk in response, making the middle aged woman roll her eyes. He was a bit of a prat, wasn't he? "Come on, then." She grinned at him, snatching up her clutch and pushing snatching up his hand. Neither of them were fond of walking much of anywhere. Apparating was just so much easier, so she wasn't surprised when George gave a slight turn and she was sucked into the crushing feeling of side-along apparition.

They ended up outside of an extremely cozy diner. Well, it wasn't a diner exactly – it was rather formal. It just had the feel of a diner. She loved it already – as George undoubtedly knew that she would. Hermione loved all things simple. "Come along, then." Hermione gave a playful roll of her eyes and nodded her head, following after the lovely red headed man. She was still unsure why she loved him as much as she did – then again, why wouldn't she? George was everything that she had ever wanted.

The couple made small talk all through dinner – George was nervous. He was fumbling and making wise cracks that Hermione honestly couldn't seem to understand. It was rare when his jokes didn't make sense – but she wasn't going to call him out on it. Instead, she'd simply shake her head in his direction and smile in exasperation. It was something she'd become good at. What? She was constantly surrounded by Weasley's. It was needed.

"Hermione, can I ask you something?" The woman simply raised her dark eyes to meet his ocean colored orbs and nodded her head as if that had been a stupid question.

"Of course." He swiftly raked his fingers through his mess of ginger colored hair.

"Y-You aren't with me because I remind you of Fred, are you?" Hermione nearly choked on her own saliva.

"Why on earth would you think that, George? It's been twelve years." She was upset, and rightly so. In the beginning, the two lovers had begun to see each other to dull the pain. They'd been a perfect match from the start. There was no doubt about it. Katie couldn't make him forget, and Dean hadn't been around to help Hermione. It'd taken two years for her to even consider seeing anyone that wasn't her beloved Fred. It was hard for her to look at George sometimes, yes, because she'd loved Fred. She'd loved him more than anything else in the world – but now? She had George. She had George, she had that little boy that she'd named after Fred, and she had a baby growing inside of her. Hermione had a family. She was finally getting over things.

"I just had to make sure, Hermione." He seemed sorry enough.

"That doesn't make it okay." The bushy haired witch scoffed slightly. Was that all he was going to say on the matter?

"I didn't want to make a mistake." He paused for a moment. "I hope this makes up for it." And then he was on his knee in front of her, a ring held delicately in his hands. Hermione nearly fell directly out of her chair. Oh lord, what was going on? Was he honestly doing this? Right here, in front of so many people? She wanted to faint and squeal at the same time. "Hermione, I love you. I love you so much it's kind of pathetic, actually." A slight smile tugged at his lips – a hopeful look passing onto his handsome face. Hermione had always imagined Fred being the one in front of her like this – she was sure that he'd had a ring stashed away somewhere – that he was going to propose after Voldemort had finally fallen. This was better than her expectations. This was George. "I know that I'm going to drive you absolutely insane and teach our children things that you're going to slap me for, but I also know that I love you more than anyone else could. You're my entire world, Hermione, and I would be honored if you choose to become my wife. So, um, will you marry me?" She felt as if she was fifteen years old again, high off of her first kiss.

"Yes."


	14. Epilogue

"What on earth are you doing?" Hermione spun on her heel to look at her best friend, Ginny Potter, with her eyebrows raised.

"What do you mean?"

"Your wedding is in two hours – both of your sons are down at my mum's, and you're not even in the lovely dress that's going to have my brother absolutely beside himself." The middle-aged witch grinned at the thought of her two little boys. Nearly six months ago, she'd given birth to a healthy baby boy named Hugo Arthur. George couldn't have been happier – he'd get to see his second son grow up, for real this time. He'd be a part of it. Hermione had no doubt that this little boy was going to be completely mischievous.

"Holy shit. _Two hours?_!" Ginny found herself giggling and gave an effortless wave of her wand, pulling everything out that she'd need to make this first time bride beautiful. Well, more beautiful than she already was.

After an hour and a half of yanking, jumping, and several profanities Hermione was finally done. She looked her best – there had never been a time that she looked this good. It was a good thing too, George had agreed to wait for a while to have the wedding. Hermione didn't want her wedding pictures to have her pregnant stomach in them. What? You only got married once – she didn't fancy looking like a cow. Ginny simply looked down at the woman. Her hair was pushed up into an elegant bun, several of her curls falling neatly around her face. Her makeup was light – simply a pink coat on her lips, eyeliner, and a bit of cream colored eye shadow. Ginny insisted that she had a naturally beautiful face. The dress, however, that was a completely different story. The white color seemed to make the woman pale out even more – in a fantastic way, of course, and the lace on the bodice made her feel elegant. It was a ballroom sort of dress. When imagining her wedding, Hermione had always said that she wanted to look like a princess and she certainly did.

"Are you ready, pumpkin?" Mr. Granger's voice broke through the room, making his only daughter nearly jump out of her skin. The older man was pushing sixty years old – but the dentist looked dashing for his age. It was a bit hard to believe that after all these years, her parents were still together. That was what she'd strive for with George.

"I am, daddy." He gave her a thin, genuine smile as his beautiful daughter stepped up next to him, carefully wrapping his arms around her in a hug.

"I always knew you'd grow up and get married. I never knew you'd look this beautiful, though." Hermione simply closed her eyes for a moment, placing this moment in her mind for what would seem like forever. She had so many good times with her parents – summers spent home, finding out she was a wizard, traveling to Italy. She loved her father more than she loved more things.

"Don't make me cry." He laughed at her, shaking his head a bit.

"I wouldn't dream of it. Come on, then, let's marry you off."

"You may kiss the bride." Tears fell all around the room. Mrs. Weasley, Mrs. Granger, Mr. Granger, and Ginny. It was inevitable – however, Hermione was doing her very best not to break down into tears herself. She'd finally given herself up to the man that she loved more than anything in this world – unless you counted their children, and his daughters. She was quite fond of them as well. They were like miniature George's. Katie surely had her hands full with them.

George's lips found hers automatically, making the curly haired witch press herself up against his easily. This was the most important kiss of her life. It magically bound her to George Weasley – it made her, finally, Mrs. George Weasley. She couldn't have been happier. Once she pulled back from the kiss, George was smirking down at her. Hermione simply giggled at him as he lifted her up, spinning her in circles in true George fashion.

"Weasley, put me down!"

"Weasley, no!" What on earth had she gotten herself into?

**Author's note;**

That's it guys, it's officially over. I might post a few one shots about the two of them now and then, but aside from that, this is the end. Thank you so much for sticking with me through this. I love you guys so much. What did you think about the ending?I know it seemed a bit rushed - I just felt that their story was coming to an end. It was time to end it. I will, however, have a new story up soon. It'll be Fred Weasley & an original character. I'm pretty fond of it.

Let me know what you guys thought! Reviews make me smile.

-Jess.


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